


Riley + Sunglasses + Undercover

by refinedbuffoonery



Series: Building Something Permanent [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mutual Pining, the slowest of burns, undercover op
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24486862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/refinedbuffoonery/pseuds/refinedbuffoonery
Summary: When a state-of-the-art computer chip emerges on the black market, Riley goes undercover as a potential buyer. It's an easy enough assignment, except for being paired up with Mac, who is posing as her playboy, millionaire boyfriend. That part gets complicated.
Relationships: Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Riley Davis/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Building Something Permanent [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930927
Comments: 129
Kudos: 382
Collections: Will Read Later





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is very short (the rest will be much longer, I promise), but let's get this show on the road! Buckle your seatbelts, my dudes. Come find me on Tumblr (@refinedbuffonery) for updates, spoilers, and other shenanigans!

It wasn’t often Matty called the team into the war room for a full team mission. 

She’d interrupted their preparations for Mac and Bozer’s annual summer party--complete with Bozer’s “none of you have a high enough security clearance to know what’s in these” burgers and some DIY fireworks courtesy of Mac. 

Matty stood in front of the screen and waited for them to file in. Russ strolled in first, plopping into the chair to Matty’s right. 

“What are we here for, Matty?” He crossed an ankle over his knee and folded his hands in his lap. 

“You’ll see, Taylor.” He frowned, clearly unhappy with being kept out of the loop. 

Desi and Bozer came in next, the former utterly unamused as Bozer prattled on about the genius of recruiting spies as freelance stunt doubles. They stood in the back of the room. 

Matty watched through the windows as Riley bent over, piled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, and stood back up before walking into the war room and perching on the arm of the chair closest to Matty. She gave the young woman a knowing look before picking up the tablet sitting on the table. 

Matty opened her mouth to ask where Mac was, but the blond hurried into the room making an excuse about an accidental glitter explosion. Sure enough, a few specks glinted on his cheeks and forehead. The chair closest to the paperclips was still open, but Mac simply grabbed one out of the bowl before sinking into the chair Riley perched on. Interesting. 

Time to begin. “Sorry for interrupting the party, guys. This morning the CIA got a tip about a black market electronics sale going down in Monte Carlo.”

Bozer interrupted, “If this is CIA intel, then why are we here?” 

“I”ll get there, Bozer.” She gave him a chastising glare. To his credit, he didn’t flinch. “Two days ago, a next generation computer chip surfaced on the black market. The CIA doesn’t know the identity of the seller. However,” she glanced at Riley again, “they do know the identity of the buyer.” Mac followed her eyes and glanced at Riley with a puzzled look. 

After a few taps and swipes on the tablet, Riley’s headshot appeared on the screen behind her. Matty fought the urge to laugh at her team’s matching confused expressions. 

“Danika Jackson is the heiress to an up-and-coming American tech company. She is the head of the company’s research and development, as well as a trusted advisor of her father, the CEO. Ms. Jackson has also been known to get her hands dirty on behalf of her father and their company. An unpatented prototype chip is exactly the kind of thing that would get her attention.” 

“A chip like this could be used to build just about anything--a supercomputer, smarter AI, a crazy powerful cell phone, you name it,” Riley said, scanning the chip’s specs on the screen. “Plus, since it’s not patented, someone can back-engineer it and reproduce it as is.” 

Matty directed her attention to Bozer. “And _that_ ,” she pointed at Riley, “is why the CIA handed over this op. I quote ‘have the perfect agent at my disposal.’” 

“Makes sense,” Mac interjected. “She has the tech skills to be credible and the undercover experience--” 

Matty cut him off. “To keep her from being killed. We know. And so does the director of the CIA.” A few eyebrows raised at that last bit. She turned to Riley. “Congratulations, Ms. Jackson. You’re about to revolutionize the American tech industry.” Addressing them all, “I’ll finish briefing you on the plane. You’re wheels up in 20.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, my dudes. Enjoy ;)

“Okay, this” Mac gestured to the decadent hotel lobby, “is the fanciest place I’ve ever been.” 

A series of chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, scattering soft white light across the room. Exquisite paintings depicting landscapes from around the world dotted the light blue walls, and potted bird-of-paradise plants stood like sentries around the room. Mac frowned at his reflection in the polished marble floor. 

He and Bozer lounged in the leather chairs facing the front door, waiting for Riley and Desi to arrive. Guests bustled around the lobby, creating a cacophony of clicking stilettos and multilingual chatter. Mac tried eavesdropping, but no one nearby spoke a language he understood. Bozer looked like he was contemplating staying there forever, but Mac didn’t share the sentiment. He’d much rather be lost deep in the California wilderness. 

He fidgeted with his tie, again. 

Bozer gave him a look--the same one Matty wore when she knew something was wrong. “Why are you so stressed, Mac? We just got here.” 

Busted. “I don’t like being split up.” 

A half truth. Riley and Desi were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, but Mac always worried when he wasn’t there to watch their backs. Especially Riley’s. 

Desi’s voice came over comms. “We’re here.” 

A commotion erupted outside as the paparazzi swarmed in from all directions. Everyone in the vicinity of the front door stopped to stare at someone exiting a white limo. Mac and Bozer jumped to their feet to get a better look. 

“That must be Riley,” Mac said. 

“Hey Mac,” Bozer said, looking around. 

“Yeah?” 

“Have you ever noticed that the size of someone’s sunglasses directly correlates to how entitled they act?” 

Mac chuckled, eyes locked on the front door. He’d lived in L.A. long enough to know that Bozer’s observation was spot on. 

The crowd finally parted. Riley’s hips swung distractingly as she sauntered into the lobby, taking off her massive rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses and placing them on top of her head in a smooth, practiced motion. Her equally massive, polished silver hoop earrings tangled in her loosely curled hair. Even her skin shimmered, as if she bathed in liquid sunlight. 

Mac and Bozer’s jaws dropped so low they almost hit the floor. 

“Damn,” Bozer muttered. “Are those Louboutins?” 

_ Damn, indeed _ . Her glossy black stilettos with bright red soles caught the attention of several onlookers. A young woman across from Mac seethed with envy. Obviously, Matty spared no expense turning Riley into a new-money American heiress. 

If the shoes didn’t catch people’s attention, then her dress definitely did. Her black spaghetti-strap dress hugged her body like a second skin. She preferred tight-fitting clothing, but this was something else entirely. Mac pretended not to notice how the dress just barely covered her ass, leaving every inch of her well-toned legs exposed. If she was going to dress like this for the entire mission...

He was absolutely fucked. 

Mac thought she looked stunning in pajamas and socks, bleary eyed and stumbling to the coffee pot every morning. Or covered in dirt, cuts, and bruises after a grueling op. Or laughing while she slaughtered him in skee-ball or Mario Kart. 

But this woman? Who strutted into a Monte Carlo hotel like she owned the damn place? She would bring him to his knees. 

His breakup with Desi was still too recent to start anything real with Riley, but every day keeping his feelings to himself grew harder and harder. When Matty first said that he’d be playing Damon, Danika’s playboy boyfriend, he’d nearly choked. The fake tabloids Phoenix created covering their relationship detailed a series of passionate, shameless displays of PDA. It was as if Matty knew about his feelings and decided to torture him. He desperately hoped that wasn’t the case. 

Mac took solace in the fact that if he slipped up, he could play it off as part of the fake-boyfriend act. 

Their original plan was for Mac to wait until later that day to meet up with her at the pool, but he couldn’t help himself. He whistled at Riley, bright and loud. Her head snapped toward him. 

“Hey,” he called out, smirking. 

Riley spun her whole body to face him, now walking backwards. “Hey yourself.” Rolling her eyes, she turned back around and made her way to the front desk. Two steps behind her, Desi shot him a quick “what the hell are you doing?” look. 

“What was that?” Bozer asked. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Just playing my part.”

**********

The moment in the lobby replayed in Riley’s mind. He was just supposed to silently observe. Why did he go off script?  _ ‘Cause he’s MacGyver. He improvises _ , a little voice said in the back of her mind. 

This was going to be harder than she thought. Having a scandalous fake relationship with him was already a lot, and if he was going to keep doing little things like this…

She was absolutely fucked. 

Riley hung the “do not disturb” sign on the door handle and got to work transforming her hotel suite into a mini war room. She and Desi unpacked the absurd number of suitcases they’d come in with. Only one of them contained clothes. 

Seated before a semi-circle of monitors, Riley hacked into the hotel’s security cameras. She pulled up the building’s blueprints, her facial recognition program, a call tracing program, and anything else she thought Bozer might need. Since she was the face of the operation, he’d be filling in to take care of her usual behind the scenes duties. 

“You ready?” Desi asked. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Riley replied, still focused on the screens in front of her. 

Desi kept talking, but Riley turned her out, obsessively checking to make sure her programs would essentially run themselves. When she registered the phrase “you should totally bang his brains out,” Riley realized she should probably pay attention to her friend. 

“What?!” 

“I knew you weren’t listening!” Desi rolled her eyes. “I said we passed a really hot guy in the lobby, and he seemed  _ very  _ interested in you. Have some fun before we go home.” 

Banging some random hottie was the  _ last  _ thing Riley wanted to do. Well, the random part at least. The man she wanted was the exact opposite of “random hottie.”  _ Focus, Riley _ , she chastised herself. Jumping aboard that train of thought would only land her in a heap of trouble. 

“But in all seriousness, you need to stop worrying about this.” Desi gestured to the computer. “Bozer knows what he’s doing. He’s not you, but he can handle this. Trust him.” 

_ Says the woman with zero trust in her own partner _ . 

The spite in her words shocked her. Riley didn’t know where that came from. But, even if Desi’s advice was hypocritical, she was right. Riley nodded, putting her computer in sleep mode. 

“Okay, I’m going to the pool to flirt with Mac,” Riley announced. “Uhh, let Bozer in and then come get me in two hours.” 

She didn’t wait for Desi’s response. Her mind was preoccupied with the fact that mission success depended on her ability to publicly seduce Mac without tearing her heart to pieces in the process. The universe played sick jokes like that. She visualized carefully tucking her feelings for a certain blond genius into a box. She locked the box, tucked it away in her heart, and hid the key in the recesses of her brain for safe keeping. 

“ _ Riley _ ,” Desi snapped. Riley turned, realizing she’d zoned out while standing in the middle of the room. Desi’s face shifted from annoyance to concern. “Are you okay?” 

_ No. Definitely not _ . “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”  _ Liar _ . Desi looked unconvinced, but she mercifully let it slide.

**********

After an hour and a half of lounging by the pool, there was still no sign of Mac or the seller. Riley knocked back the last of her cocktail--some electric blue concoction the bartender made her. “On the house,” he’d said with a hungry glint in his eye. 

Flirting with Mac would’ve been torture, but at least it beat fending off handsy European playboys. She regretted leaving Desi behind. 

A woman floating in the pool shot Riley an appreciative smile. “Care to join me?” 

“No thanks,” she called, dismissing the woman with a wave. Riley shrugged on her cover up and flip flops and returned to the bar for a refill. One more drink wouldn’t hurt. 

She leaned against the bar, stretching her calves while she waited for her drink. An older man sidled up next to her, gripping her exposed waist. 

She batted his hand away. “Get your hands off me, creep.” 

He had the gall to look offended as he grabbed her again. “Well that’s no way to start a successful business relationship.” Her skin crawled, as if he’d dumped a bucket full of spiders over her head.  _ Get it together, Riley. You’ve got this. _

“Is that so?” She was not about to take any of this creep’s bullshit, even if he was the seller. “Hands. Off.” His hand stayed right where it was. 

“I hear we have a common interest, Ms. Jackson. I suggest you be the highest bidder on the Victorian Era locket at tonight’s auction.” 

_ Locket? Auction? _ She’d pictured a covert meeting in an empty parking garage, not something as high-profile and unguaranteed as winning an auction. 

“Auction? I thought we had a deal.” 

“You came to me, sweetheart. And I’m providing you with information on how to buy it.” 

_ What the hell? _

“Why should I trust you?” she prodded. “I don’t even know your name.” 

The man gave her a sickening smile, the kind usually reserved for decrepit pirates in movies. “You don’t need it.” He gave her waist a tight squeeze before slinking away. 

Riley called after him. “And what if I lose?” It was a very real possibility. 

Not stopping, the man replied over his shoulder, “That would be unfortunate.” 

_ Well, shit. _ This op kept getting worse by the minute, but at least the bartender finally dropped off her drink. 

She’d just brought the glass to her lips when she felt someone come up behind her and plant their hands on her hips. Riley whirled on them. “I swear to God--”

_ Oh _ . A certain shirtless blond stood before her, eyes blown wide and hands in the air in surrender.  _ Man, he was sexy shirtless _ . She started to say his name but stopped herself. “It’s you.” 

“Who else would it be?” 

Riley shot him a look that said,  _ Don’t ask _ . She offered her drink. “Try this. You’ll like it.” 

Mac did. “That’s good! What is it?” 

“Honestly, I have no idea.” 

He took another sip before handing it back. “So, how’s the pool?” Cautiously this time, Mac’s hand grazed down her spine before settling in the small of her back. Lighting raced through her body in the wake of his fingers. 

“Much better now that you’re here.” She stepped into his side, and Mac’s hand slid down and around to her hip, his thumb making torturous sweeps across her hip bone.  _ We’re just playing _ , she reminded herself. His light, gentle touches threatened to make her combust. 

Mac’s eyes locked on her neck, filled with that far-away look he got when he was solving a puzzle. Riley quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, what is going on here?” She mimed drawing a circle around his face. “You look like a vampire trying to decide on the best way to eat me.” 

His expression shifted from inquisitive to dumbfounded. “How--” His voice caught. Riley suppressed the urge to giggle as he cleared his throat to try again. “How is your skin  _ sparkly _ ?” 

“Body glitter, babe.” She flashed a smile at him. “Want some?” 

“Uhh, no. I think I’m still wearing some from yesterday.” 

Riley bit her lower lip. Their teasing was normal; they’d done it since the day they met. But that thing underneath it...that was new. Their flirting was fake, part of their cover as a couple. So, why did he look at her like that? If she didn’t know better, Riley would’ve thought his flirting was real. 

_ There wasn’t a chance that he...right? _ No. She refused to be that girl who imagined something out of nothing.  _ He doesn’t love me, not like that _ , she reminded herself. 

Mac guided her away from the bar, aiming for a more private part of the pool. They passed her drink back and forth as they walked. 

Tensing, Riley lowered her voice so only Mac could hear. “I met the seller. A real creep, by the way.” He tightened his grip on her as if to say,  _ I’m sorry. I’ve got you. You’re safe now _ . Her body involuntarily relaxed a bit. “He said I needed to be the highest bidder on some old locket at the auction tonight. I’m guessing the chip is inside.” 

“And what if you don’t win?” 

She replied mockingly, “That would be unfortunate.” 

He snorted. “No wonder you needed a drink.” Mac took one last sip before handing it back. “Here’s what I don’t get. If the seller originally went to all that trouble to stay anonymous, then why did he approach you in person?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Riley admitted. 

It was getting harder and harder to ignore the feeling of Mac’s hand on her hip. His touch was firm, but he didn’t dig his fingertips into her the way more possessive guys often did. She could spend all day tucked into his side, leeching his warmth, no problem, but there was something about  _ those damn hands _ . Riley trusted them even more than her own, especially when their lives were on the line. But when no one was actively in danger?  _ God _ , they were distracting. 

“Do you have a plan?” he asked, snapping her out of her head. 

She glanced up at him. “No, but I’m betting you do.” 

“Yeah, but Matty’s not going to like it.” 

  
_ This’ll be good _ , she thought. Riley knocked back the rest of her drink and grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I LOVE reading your comments and feedback! Thank you for all the lovely responses so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! This short chapter is a quick trip through Bozer and Desi's heads before I unveil the masterpiece that is Chapter 4.

Riley burst into the hotel room, making Bozer jump, and he scrambled to get out of his chair before Riley shoved him out of it. She didn’t bother to return his “hey” upon entering. He frowned.  _ Rude _ . 

“What’s going on?” Desi questioned. Lately Desi’s questions sounded more and more like accusations than genuinely asking for information. If she kept it up, things were going to get ugly. Fast. Bozer did not want to find himself in the middle of it. 

Riley finally managed a “hang on” before ignoring them completely. Bozer watched as her fingers flew across the keyboard, eyes slightly squinted the way they did when she was really concentrating. Her focus didn’t last long, though. Barely two minutes passed between her walking in, typing furiously, and now unmuting her comms. 

“Mac, I looped the hallway cameras around the storage room. There aren’t any in the room itself, so you should be good to go.” 

“Storage room?” Bozer asked. “Why is Mac breaking into a storage room?” 

Finally acknowledging him and Desi, Riley sat back in her chair and said, “We’re stealing the chip.” 

“What happened to buying it?” Desi asked. 

“I met the seller at the pool. Turns out to buy the chip you have to place the winning bid on an old locket at tonight’s auction. The chip is--”

“Inside the locket,” Bozer finished. 

“Of course it is,” Desi muttered. 

They called Matty to fill her in. She wasn’t exactly pleased. As much as Bozer would rather avoid field work, not having to experience Matty The Hun in person was definitely a perk. 

Movement on the computer screen caught Bozer’s eye. Security guards swarmed the camera feed. “Uhh, guys? They’re blocking all the exits.” 

At another time, he would’ve thought Desi’s flat “what” reaction was funny, but right then he was more worried about the number of big dudes with big guns who kept multiplying out of nowhere. 

“Mac...” Riley said over comms. He must have set off some kind of silent alarm. 

“Coming in hot,” Mac warned. His form jumped from camera feed to camera feed as he made his way to their suite, until he finally burst into the room the same way Riley did. 

Mac locked the door and raked his hands through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. Bozer glanced between him and Riley, studying the way they both breathed a sigh of relief as soon as they saw each other. 

“I brought you a present.” Grinning, he pulled an old-fashioned gold locket out of his pants pocket and handed it to Riley with a dramatic flourish. 

Her grin mirrored his own. “Why thank you,” she replied coyly. 

Were they... _ flirting _ ? 

Bozer was torn between wanting to congratulate them for acknowledging their feelings and wanting to smack them upside the head for not staying focused.  _ Now I’m not focused. Dammit _ . 

Riley opened the locket and swore. 

“What’s wrong?” Bozer asked. 

She held the chip between her thumb and index finger. “It’s a fake.” 

_ That’s not good _ , Bozer thought. 

She continued, “Well, not a totally-useless piece of plastic fake, but it definitely isn’t the fancy state of the art thing the CIA said it was. This came from an--”

“iPhone,” Mac finished. Riley nodded. 

“An iPhone? You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bozer said. He wondered, why bother to put in a fake when the buyer was someone who would immediately know what it was? Why not just leave it empty? 

Mac smirked. “I can crack open your phone and show you if you don’t believe me.” 

Bozer planted both hands over his pocket, guarding his phone. “Absolutely not! I believe you.” His best friend had the nerve to look mildly disappointed. 

“Now what?” Desi asked. She gestured to the guards swarming the computer screen. “The sale is a scam, and it’s not like we can call it a day and leave.” 

Mac and Riley exchanged a wicked grin. “Guess we just have to stay here,” Mac said. 

**********

Desi studied the way Mac and Riley circled each other. There was a distinct push and pull in their words, tone, body language. As coworkers, their partnership was seamless. They grounded each other, bounced ideas off one another, and executed stupid plans together. Mac would’ve said they were in-sync the way a pair of gears was, or something like that. 

This new dynamic was almost...magnetic. It was as if the universe, after so many years of conspiring against them, finally decided it was time, and now they toed the line between their covers and reality. 

The team decided carrying on as if they didn’t already have the locket was their best bet. Determining the identity of the seller became paramount after learning the chip was a fake. Ever the dutiful bodyguard, Desi would accompany Riley and Mac to the auction that night, which was being held in the hotel’s first-floor ballroom. Bozer would stay behind in the suite, watching their backs and running facial recognition on the seller using the security footage from the pool. 

Desi dreaded the inevitable PDA spectacle she was about to witness. They were just doing their jobs, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch her ex seduce someone else. Even if that someone else was her friend. 

She didn’t envy Mac. He had to fake-seduce the woman who he had unrequited--as far as he knew--feelings for while his ex watched his every move.  _ Yikes _ . As for Riley, she did a better job of hiding her feelings, but Desi knew it was only a matter of time before she cracked. The woman had an uncanny ability to hold herself--and everyone else--together when shit hit the fan, but there’s only so much one person can carry. 

Mac unnecessarily put his hand on Riley’s back when he squeezed behind her to fix his hair in the mirror. Desi narrowed her eyes. The bathroom wasn’t  _ that  _ small. 

Desi knew they were both playing their roles, but how the hell did neither realize the other person _ wasn’t just playing anymore _ ? 

Watching them help each other get ready was nauseating. It was all longing glances and looking away before the other could catch them staring. While Riley was busy redoing her makeup, Mac watched her, lips curling into a small smile. Riley caught his eyes in the mirror, and he quickly looked away, hurt briefly clouding her pretty face. Desi pitied her; Mac looked at Riley like she was a well-stocked science lab, and she had no goddamn idea. 

Desi was pretty sure Mac had never looked at  _ her  _ like that. Not even once. 

She felt like she was standing too close to a fire. Her body was burning, yet she couldn’t make herself look away. Bozer mercifully tugged her into a different room after they both watched Riley fix Mac’s collar, her fingers all business, but then Mac stepped closer, and her hands lingered on his shoulders, and he murmured something too quietly for Desi to hear, and it was suddenly all too much. 

“Are you okay?” Bozer asked. 

Desi exhaled. “I will be. They’re just doing their jobs.” 

Bozer made a face. “You and I both know they aren’t ‘just doing their jobs.’ Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.”  _ Not ever _ . 

“Well, I’m here if you change your mind, because we both know  _ that _ \--” he gestured toward the other room--- “is not going away any time soon. As much as they swear they are ‘just friends,’ you and I both know ‘just friends’ don’t look at each other like that.” 

He was right, whether Desi liked it or not. “Thanks, Boze.” 

She heard his stomach grumble. “Someone’s hungry,” she teased. 

“Dude, I’m starving! Do you think you could smuggle me some snacks from the party?” He gave her his best puppy dog eyes, even though they both knew it wouldn’t work on her. 

“We’ll see.” Even though the rest of the night was going to suck, Desi suddenly felt a little lighter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting this way later than I originally told y'all...I got a little overly ambitious with my speed-editing abilities. Anyway...I present one incredibly self-indulgent chapter before I crank the angst and sexual tension up to eleven.

The ballroom was crowded with beautiful women, but Mac only had eyes for one in particular. 

Riley flitted about the room with him in tow, making small talk with strangers at random. Stumbling upon a group of men who all seemed to be software engineers of some sort, Riley joined their discussion, challenging their ideas with “I’ve found it more effective when…” and what-if questions. Mac stood back and admired her, not understanding a word any of them said. He could tell these men were smart, but she was smarter. Her brain worked faster than anyone else’s he knew. Watching her mind at work was hot. Like,  _ really  _ hot. 

She turned around and flashed a wide, bright smile at him, and all he could think was,  _ Oh shit _ . It was the one that she reserved only for him, Mac noted with no small amount of primal satisfaction. 

“Damon, honey.” She wiggled her index finger at him. “Come here.” Snapping himself out of his daze, he complied. Riley introduced him, “This is my boyfriend, Damon.” 

“Damon Townsend. Genius, philanthropist, playboy, millionaire…” He shook each man’s hand in turn, ignoring Riley’s side-eye. “But, who am I kidding? Danika’s the impressive one.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. 

She beamed, dark eyes locking with his. Those damn eyes fucked him over every time. So dark they blended in with her pupils half the time, yet warm and soft, they were so easy to get lost in, like drowning in a sea of midnight waves. Drowning was not a pleasant way to go, but Mac was more than willing to drown in her. 

His favorite thing about her eyes was that they betrayed her every emotion. No matter how well she hid it in the rest of her face and body language, her eyes always told the truth. 

And with the way she was looking at him… It was getting harder to pretend everything was fine. To pretend he wasn’t in love with her. Mac caught himself leaning forward a fraction, as if he were going to kiss her. He pulled back. What the hell was he thinking? 

Mac could’ve sworn she’d leaned in too, but he chalked it up to his overeager imagination. 

Not breaking eye contact, she said, “I’m hungry. Let’s find something to eat.” Mac nodded. Riley turned to the men, who were starting to look uncomfortable. “It was nice meeting you all.” 

She led him toward the hors d'oeuvres table. “I didn’t realize I was dating Tony Stark,” Riley said, her voice low. Mac chuckled. 

He popped a bacon-wrapped date in his mouth. They were one of his favorite appetizers, salty and sweet at the same time. Riley ate one too. 

Desi flagged them over to her hiding place in the corner, and Mac grabbed a date for the road. 

“Meet anyone interesting?” she asked. 

Riley shook her head. “No, they all seem clean.” Trying to sniff out the seller at the auction was a long shot, but it was the best they could do until the facial recognition Bozer was running on the security footage from the pool found a match. 

“We’ll take another lap,” Mac said. Resting a hand on the small of Riley’s back, he led her through the crowd. His thumb brushed her bare skin, exposed by a cutout in the back of her elegant navy gown. Riley gasped on contact. It took every ounce of willpower to stop himself from sliding his hand up to learn  _ exactly  _ what would cause her to gasp like that again. 

He and Riley neared the front of the ballroom, having nearly completed their lap. There were fewer people at this end.

In his peripheral vision, a guard pointed directly at him. “Damn,” he muttered. 

“Mac, what is it?” 

He nodded toward the guard making a beeline for them. Mac observed his surroundings, knowing Riley was doing the same. There was nowhere to hide, and with all the exits sealed, there was literally nowhere to run. They were out of options, and the guard was now mere feet away. 

His plan was stupid, in so many ways. But, it was the best he had. 

“I’m so sorry, Riles.” 

He didn’t wait for her response before gripping her waist and pushing her up against the nearest wall, next to a coat closet. His lips crashed into hers, every bit the fiery public makeout their covers supposedly indulged in. She hesitated for only a second before closing her eyes and kissing him back. 

Their kiss was everything he’d ever hoped for. 

Well, except the fact that they were Danika and Damon, not Macgyver and Riley. 

She gripped the back of his neck and pulled him closer. How could she commit to putting her hands in just one place?  _ Because she doesn’t have feelings for you, idiot. _ He ran his hands along her sides, her hips, her back, never staying in one place longer than a few seconds. Trying to memorize the feel of holding her, touching her,  _ kissing her _ because he knew he’d probably never get this chance again. 

No wonder Bozer had once said he refused to die before he could kiss her. Mac felt like his bones were on fire and the world stopped spinning and time slowed down just for them. 

If someone pulled him away and asked him what two plus two was, he would’ve said her name in answer. 

Riley swiped her tongue along his lower lip, and Mac almost combusted on the spot.  _ She’s just playing. She’s just playing. She’s just-- _

A soft moan escaped her lips. 

_ Fuck _ . 

He never wanted to kiss anyone else again. One kiss from her ruined everyone else. 

She dropped her hands to his shoulders as the approaching guard quickly found somewhere else to be. Crisis averted. Mac’s own hands finally stilled--one on her waist and the other tangled in her hair. Their kisses became languid, yet deliberate. Exploratory.  _ God, she’s a good kisser _ , he thought. His heart pounded so loudly Mac was sure Riley could hear it. 

He needed to end this before he did something he regretted. Mac trailed chaste kisses along her jaw to her ear. “Closet,” he growled. 

“Uh-huh.” She slammed her hand into the doorknob, flung the door open, and dragged him inside by his tie, their lips colliding once more.

**********

Bozer sat in front of the computer, monitoring the auction and wishing Desi would smuggle him some hors d'oeuvres. 

So far, no luck, even though it would’ve been oh so easy to wrap something up in a napkin and slip it in a pocket unseen, since every pair of eyes was trained on Mac and Riley stumbling into a coat closet. 

Bozer took one look at Mac’s tie in Riley’s fist and knew his best friend was a goner. 

The pixelated camera feed did nothing to hide the horrified expression on the incoming security guard’s face. At least he knew better than to interrupt  _ that _ . The guard veered to the left and suddenly found the floor very interesting. 

Bozer was about to give Mac and Riley the all-clear when Riley’s hand appeared pressed into the frosted glass of the coat closet door. It reminded him of the iconic hand scene in  _ Titanic _ . 

Bozer cringed but mumbled, “ _ Damn _ .” In the corner of the screen, Desi subtly pulled out her phone. 

His phone buzzed.  _ Well that was fast _ , her text read. Bozer figured that was as positive of a response as they were going to get from her. He started to text her back, but was interrupted when Riley’s laptop made a pinging noise. 

Facial recognition found a match.

**********

They were still kissing after Riley pulled the closet door shut and locked it behind them. Every pair of eyes in the room had been on them as they shamelessly made out against the wall before stumbling into the closet like lovesick idiots.  _ Don’t kid yourself, Riley. You  _ are  _ a lovesick idiot. _ All the outside world could see now was two faint silhouettes through the door’s frosted window. 

Still holding his tie, Riley tugged Mac closer. Now that she had him, she couldn’t get enough of him. Her whole body curved into his, and he braced her neck while his mouth slanted over hers, teeth tugging at her lower lip. 

Kissing Mac felt like a thousand stars exploding in her chest all at once. 

Even though it would never be reality, Riley let herself fantasize about the op ending with the two of them alone in a hotel room. Her toes curled in her stilettos. She needed to stop, but she couldn’t. She wanted to eat him alive. 

Riley murmured his name against his lips, and Mac’s hands curved around her ass like he was going to lift her up. She traced the outline of his lips with her tongue, teasing him while she waited for that little squeeze, signaling her to jump and wrap her legs around him. 

What started as just a diversion morphed into something much, much more, and the last threads of her frayed restraint finally snapped. Louder this time, she said his name again, her voice low and sultry. 

Mac suddenly ripped himself away. 

His absence hit her like a brick. A whole fucking truckload of bricks. Riley stumbled backward, steadying herself with a hand on the window. Her eyes refused to open for a few moments. Her lungs stopped working. A thousand questions burned on her tongue, but she ignored them all, too busy engraving the moment into her memory. 

_ It was just an act _ , she reminded herself, but his lips were so soft and warm and  _ damn  _ he tasted good.  _ He pulled away. He didn’t mean it _ . They probably only kept kissing for ten, fifteen seconds, tops, but it felt like an eternity passed in those precious few seconds. 

In all the times they’d gone undercover as a couple, they’d never kissed before. If he’d kissed her like that on an op, she would’ve realized her feelings  _ long  _ ago. 

She finally dared look at him. He wore that dazed expression he got when he was deep in his own head.  _ What if…no.  _

_ Get it together, Riley. _ She couldn’t. 

_ It meant nothing. _ It was everything. 

_ He’s just doing his job _ . He could’ve found another way to escape. He’s MacGyver. 

The voices in her head needed to shut the fuck up. Their little retorts were not helping. 

“I’m sorry, Riles.” His voice was hoarse. 

His apology snapped Riley out of her head and into reality. Mac looked almost...broken. Not the same broken as after his dad died, but broken nonetheless. Her heart sank in her chest. 

“Mac, it’s okay,” she reassured him, voice equally hoarse. 

“No, it’s not. I should’ve found another way. At least I should’ve  _ asked  _ first. I’m sorry. I panicked.” He was spiraling. 

“Mac,” she said firmly. “Look at me.” He did. “It’s okay. I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“As long as you’re sure.” He still looked guilty. 

Riley took a deep breath and removed her hand from the door. “So, now that the whole world thinks we’re having a quickie in a closet...what do we do now?” It was a feeble attempt to regain some normalcy. 

A smile tugged at Mac’s lips. Riley noticed they had a reddish tint from her lipstick. “I have no idea.” 

She tried to come up with a bad joke about improvising but was interrupted by Bozer’s voice in her ear. 

“Sorry to interrupt the party, guys, but facial rec found a match for the seller in the Interpol database. His name is Raymond Pierre.” Bozer said his name with a terrible French accent. “Interpol doesn’t have much on him, other than that he’s French and has a couple charges of identity theft.” 

“So he’s a con man?” Riley prompted. 

“More than likely,” Bozer confirmed. “Can you--”

“Do my thing and find him? Yeah, we’ll be right there.” 

Mac muted his comms and motioned for her to do the same. She did, raising her eyebrows to silently ask,  _ Are you okay? _

His arm twitched, as if he was going to reach for her and thought better of it. Feelings be damned, she took his hand in hers and squeezed. 

Holding hands with Mac didn’t create sparks or stir butterflies. Their intertwined fingers just felt natural. Safe. Reassuring. Like a silent  _ I got you _ . 

He squeezed back. “Can we stay in here for a minute?” His voice wavered. 

Riley nodded, the pained expression in his eyes sending her spiraling once again.  _ Oh. Right _ . Shifting back into work mode, Riley momentarily forgot about the situation she and Mac had gotten themselves into. Though this was far from the first time she’d dragged him into a closet, this was the first they’d ended up so…disheveled. 

_ It was just a diversion that got carried away. That’s all _ . Liar. Liar. Liar. 

The problem with kissing someone was the echoing possibility of doing it again. Riley felt it in the space between them, like static electricity during a lightning storm. 

She needed to get out of that damn closet before she did something incredibly stupid. Riley wanted nothing more than to back him into a wall and lose herself in him, but Angus MacGyver wasn’t hers, and they had a job to do. 

She took another deep breath. Mac asked for a minute, and she respected that. Running away from whatever this was wasn’t an option. 

“Riles,” he said softly. She stood completely still as he reached for her face. His fingers hovered millimeters from her lips in hesitation, giving her the chance to back away. When she didn’t, he gently swiped his finger along the edge of her lips. Her pulse thundered. That small, reverent touch was more intoxicating than his hands on her skin or his tongue in her mouth would ever be. 

Belatedly, he said, “Your lipstick was smudged.” 

“Thanks,” she breathed. 

His other hand tightened on hers. “Riles, I--” He was interrupted by both of their phones ringing. 

“We should probably answer that,” Riley said. Reality beckoned. She wasn’t sure whether she was grateful or furious. Maybe both. 

  
It was a text from Bozer.  _ Turn your damn comms back on. Desi’s gone _ .


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, my lovelies!

Of course the one time Matty let the CIA borrow her best agents, they ended up walking into a trap. The Company was messy like that. Matty swore that as soon as she got her team back safe and sound, heads were going to roll. Starting with the director of the CIA himself. 

In the meantime, she tapped her foot on the war room floor while she waited for Riley to finish scrubbing the security footage. No one spoke. 

“There,” Riley said. She mirrored her screen so Matty could watch. 

Desi stood in the lower left corner of the video. While all of the other guests were enraptured by something just outside the frame, a pair of gloved hands smothered her agent’s face with a rag and dragged her out of view. 

Mac and Riley weren’t in the picture at all. 

“Mac, Riley,” Matty said, “where were you when this happened? And what is everyone staring at?” On the other end of the line, someone choked. It sounded like Riley. Bozer’s soft chuckle came through the speaker. 

“Guys, what are you not telling me?” she prompted. With the way Bozer was laughing, she knew something was up. Bozer’s “I have a secret” vibe was literally visible from the moon. 

Mac finally answered her. “Riley and I were...uhh...busy.” No one elaborated further. 

Matty had a feeling she knew exactly what “busy” entailed. Apparently, it was a very public “busy.” Even though they couldn’t see her, she smiled. “I look forward to reading all about it in your reports.” Just to make them squirm, Matty let her statement hang in the air for a few moments before getting back to the situation at hand. “Riley, can you see where Desi was taken?” 

Riley’s nails clicked on her keyboard. “Desi was standing in front of a side exit. The footage of the hallway outside doesn’t show anyone entering or leaving, so whoever took her must’ve looped the cameras.” 

Perfect. This op was the gift that just kept giving. “Mac, what do you think she was drugged with?” 

“Chloroform, most likely. Everything you need to make it can be found in any janitor’s closet.” 

“Okay, and where are we on locating Pierre?” 

“I’ve got him,” Riley answered, mercifully. “He’s in a car driving southeast.” 

“What’s southeast?” Bozer asked. 

After a few clicks, Riley said, “For starters, the border with France. But it looks like there’s a helicopter-only airport before that.” 

Matty didn’t like the directions she was about to give, but she gave them anyway. “Riley, go get him. Bozer, stay in the suite to help Riley and figure out how to get the hotel out of lockdown. Mac, find Desi.” A chorus of “ _ yes ma’am” _ s filled her ears. 

She hung up and took a deep breath. Her agents had been in far worse situations, but any mission that went belly-up put Matty on edge. Mac and Riley would get them home safe, she promised herself. One way or another, they always did. 

**********

None of them like splitting up, but they all agreed it was their best option. Riley was the best high speed chase driver, and Mac would know what to do if Desi needed immediate medical attention. 

Riley was secretly relieved she’d be getting some distance from Mac, however brief. She’d figured she would spend the entire op tied to him, but chasing down Pierre gave her an excuse to process her emotions alone and figure out what the fuck was going on. 

First, she needed to get out of the building and find some wheels. 

“Hey, Mac.” He immediately met her eyes. “Could you please make me a small grenade?” 

Mac’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Sure.” He started to head off in search of ingredients, but seemed to think better of it and turned around, leaning against a wall. “Riles, why do you need a grenade?” 

Riley grinned. “Distraction while I steal a car.” 

Mac’s mouth quirked into his ‘I’m impressed’ smirk. “That’s my girl.” 

His voice echoed in her head.  _ That’s my girl. That’s my girl. That’s my girl _ . 

A few minutes later, Mac handed her his suit jacket and a plastic water bottle filled with god only knew what. For once, their fingers didn’t brush, and that stung more than any impending rejection. Even though it was wholly unnecessary, they always found excuses to brush hands. Brief reassurances they had each other’s backs. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he said with mock seriousness. 

“No promises.” Riley stared at the jacket, trying and failing to figure out how it was related to the grenade. Maybe she was supposed to wrap it around the bottle? Looking up, she asked, “What’s the jacket for?” 

She could’ve sworn Mac blushed. “In case it’s cold outside.” She pulled it on, ducking her head to hide her own blush. Trying not to love him was damn near impossible, even if he was confusing. He didn’t touch her, but he gave her his jacket? If this was supposed to be a rejection, he was doing a terrible job at it. The jacket was way too big, but it was warm and smelled like him. Riley immediately felt safer, like his actual arms were enveloping her. Fresh memories of being wrapped up in him lurked in the back of her mind. She told them to fuck off. 

Water bottle grenade in hand, Riley slipped out of the suite, fighting the urge to look back. 

Walking through the hotel without raising suspicion was easy enough, but getting to the hotel’s underground parking lot was another matter. Since the hotel only had valet parking, there was no guest entrance to the lot. After consulting the building’s blueprints, Riley had found the series of hidden staircases she crept down now, narrowly avoiding getting caught by a pair of roaming guards. With every step, her heels clicked on the concrete, and the sound echoed up the stairwell. She’d been planning on begging Matty to let her keep the designer shoes, but at this point, she would give anything to have her favorite boots instead. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Riley clutched the water bottle and peeked into the lot. There wasn’t a soul in sight other than the twenty-nothing year old kid on his phone in the valet booth. His right thumb moved rapidly across the screen, as if he were playing a game. Lucky her. 

She chucked the grenade as far as she could away from the booth--and the exit. It exploded with a loud bang, causing the boy to practically jump out of his skin before running to investigate. “Boom,” she said with a smirk. 

Riley walked right into the booth. Keys covered two walls from floor to ceiling, each labeled with a number. Her eyes caught on a set of Lamborghini keys just below eye level. Perfect. She hit unlock, and the car chirped from across the lot, lights flashing. 

First checking to ensure the valet employee was still distracted, Riley jogged between cars and through the aisles, ignoring the way her stilettos pinched her toes. 

“Hey!” A male voice called across the lot.  _ Shit _ . The valet employee finally saw her. Riley sped up. She probably looked ridiculous, running as fast as she could while trying not to fall on her face. 

When she finally reached the sleek, black convertible, Riley flung the door open and slid inside, yanking off her right shoe. It still had that new car smell. Aside from being pissed at her for not giving the car the reverence it deserved--or something like that--Jack would’ve been so jealous if he knew. Not only was it the nicest car any of them would ever drive, but the real icing on the cake was that Mac wasn’t there to destroy it. 

The engine roared to life. Bozer practically screamed in her ear. “Damn, Riley. What kind of car did you get? Also, when you exit, turn right.” 

“You’ll see,” she responded gleefully. Riley gunned it out of the lot, following Bozer’s instructions. 

As soon as she pulled out into the street, Bozer shrieked. “A Lamborghini?!? You stole a fucking  _ Lamborghini _ ?” 

Riley cackled with delight, speeding off in pursuit of Pierre. 

**********

Meanwhile, Mac set off in search of Desi. Riley’s laughter rang in his ear, a warm sound that reverberated through his bones. He tried and failed to ignore it. 

He knew Desi was still in the hotel. Bozer was monitoring all the exits using a Phoenix satellite, so if she had left, Bozer would’ve seen it. 

Mac knew this was all his fault. If he hadn’t been distracted by kissing Riley, then Desi wouldn’t have been kidnapped. Plain and simple. 

At the thought of kissing Riley, he was transported back into that damn closet, where they’d kept kissing for a few seconds, even after they ditched their audience. 

Those precious few seconds nearly undid him. 

There was no need to continue the show, yet she still kissed him like he was the very air she needed to breathe. And the way she’d pulled him closer by his tie…It was just enough to foster a small hope that maybe, just maybe, she might have feelings for him too. 

He just hoped those feelings were strong enough to forgive him for throwing himself at her without her consent. He’d kissed other girls as ruses before, but  _ this was Riley _ , and it was different because she’s his best friend and there were uncommunicated feelings involved. Even if it made her uncomfortable, Riley played along with his ruse and totally sold it because that’s her job. That didn’t mean she wasn’t probably pissed. He crossed a line he could never uncross, and no matter what she inevitably said about it, a piece of her hard-earned trust was gone. 

Mac shook his head. Getting caught up in Riley was what got him in this mess in the first place. He needed to focus on finding Desi. 

He shoved thoughts of Riley into the far recesses of his brain and got to work. Starting from the ballroom--where the auction was still going--he tried to retrace Desi’s attacker’s steps. If he was the kidnapper, then he would’ve taken Desi down the hallway to the left. It was, by far, the least traveled, and it had a multitude of doors and other hallways branching off it, providing plenty of hiding places and alternate routes. 

Mac didn’t like working on mere speculation, but it was the closest thing to a lead he had. Whoever took Desi was careful to leave no trace of either person. 

“Okay, Mac.” Bozer said. “In this direction, there are four places they could’ve gone: an out of the way conference room, a janitor’s closet, upstairs to a room, or downstairs to the basement.” 

The conference room seemed too obvious, but Mac wanted to check it anyway. “Where’s the conference room?” 

“It’s-- Hang on. Riley, go straight through the next two roundabouts. Once you’ve gone through the second one, you’ll have crossed into France.” 

“Got it.” 

“Sorry, Mac. The conference room is down the hall, second to last door on the right.” 

“Thanks.” Mac marveled at how Bozer simultaneously juggled helping him search for Desi while guiding Riley through the streets of Monte Carlo--and now, apparently, France. He imagined Bozer at the computer, bouncing between maps and satellite imagery on one monitor and building blueprints on the other. 

Mac checked the conference room and the janitor’s closet. Both empty. He hated it, but he was slightly relieved Desi wasn’t stuffed in the closet. Something about the irony of finding his ex--who was kidnapped while he was in a different closet with a different woman--in a closet made him feel sick. 

Riley’s voice floated over comms. “Hey, Mac! Any leads on finding Desi?” Her calm and collected tone yanked him out of his guilt spiral. It was like she knew he was caught up in his head, even while hurtling away from him at breakneck speed. He silently thanked her. 

“Nothing yet. I’m going to check the basement next.” 

“Riley Davis, you are driving over a hundred miles per hour.” Bozer used his best chastising-mom voice. “Pay attention to the road!” Riley didn’t dignify him with a response, but Mac knew she rolled her eyes and pressed the gas pedal a little harder. 

**********

Riley couldn’t believe her luck when she caught up to Pierre’s blue sedan without running into any cops. She’d been driving well over a hundred miles per hour, weaving around literally every other car on the road without using her blinker like a true Californian. Catching Pierre was hardly different from her daily commute to work. 

Driving that fast, she couldn’t afford to get distracted, so she banished every trace of kissing Mac from her head and focused on catching the con man. 

She tailgated Pierre long enough for him to realize she was following him. He turned off the highway, but Riley was hot on his heels. 

“Bozer! How do I cut him off?” Her plan was simple: let Pierre think he lost her in the streets and cut him off before he could get back to the highway. 

“Take your next left, then an immediate right.” 

Riley let a couple cars merge between her and Pierre. Predictably, he kept going straight, which was the quickest way back to the highway from what Riley could tell. Following Bozer’s directions, she turned onto a parallel street. 

The cars on this road drove infuriatingly slowly--slowly enough that moments from the auction and the goddamn closet clawed their way in from the edges of her mind. As much as Riley tried to ignore and deny it, she had put all her cards on the table with that kiss. 

In doing so, she’d screwed everything up. Before Bozer interrupted them, Mac had been about to say something. A rejection, most likely. Short of verbally confessing, Riley had made her feelings crystal clear, and Mac didn’t feel the same way. He’d played a role to cover their tracks, but he meant none of it. She wasn’t even upset that he’d launched himself at her without asking first. If anyone else tried that, Riley would’ve kicked their ass the moment they had some privacy. But, this was Mac. She trusted Mac. And, if she had said stop, he would’ve immediately stopped, even if it got them in a heap of trouble. 

But, even though she trusted him with her body, with her whole life, she didn’t trust him not to shatter her heart into a thousand tiny pieces that even duct tape and paperclips couldn’t put back together. 

She cursed at a car that nearly swerved into her lane. Riley had no idea what to do next. There was no way Mac didn’t know how she felt, but she felt none of the relief that came with actually confessing feelings. Should she confess, even though she already knew he couldn’t reciprocate? Or was it better to just keep it to herself and learn to let him go? Both options sucked. 

Some part of her knew it was best to just cut her losses and break her own heart, but she wasn’t ready to go down that road just yet. 

In addition to her situation with Mac, Riley had no idea what to do next in a literal sense. Bozer had been eerily silent for the last couple minutes. 

In the distance, the street came to a dead end. “Bozer…”

“TURN RIGHT!” 

Riley nearly jumped out of her skin, but she skidded around the corner and mentally flipped Bozer off. He really needed to work on giving better directions. 

Riley brought the car to a screeching stop in the next intersection, blocking Pierre. She put the car in park, flung her door open, and stood, pointing a gun right at Pierre’s face. 

“Pierre! Get out of the car and put your hands up, or I’ll shoot.” 

“Shoot?” Bozer asked. 

“Since when do you have a gun?” Mac followed. 

“It’s Desi’s spare,” Riley explained, “now shut up!” 

She wiggled her gun at Pierre, something she’d seen Jack do a thousand times. Pierre, smartly, did exactly as she commanded. Slowly, he stepped out of his car and raised his hands up by his head. Keeping her gun trained on his chest, Riley walked toward Pierre, stopping only a few feet away. 

“Miss Jackson,” Pierre babbled, “I’m sure we can work something out.” 

“Cut the crap. Who do you work for?” 

“I work alone.” Pierre didn’t seem to be lying. If he worked alone, then who the hell took Desi? 

“Tell me something.” Riley stepped closer. She still wasn’t all that comfortable with guns, but mercifully, her arms held perfectly still. “Do you consider yourself good at your job?” 

“Of course, Mademoiselle.” 

“Then tell me why a skilled con man would try to pull such a pathetic, obvious scam.” 

He gave her the same sick smile he’d given her at the pool. Riley  _ really  _ didn’t like this guy. Schooling her expression into cool boredom, she raised the gun and pressed it to his forehead. “I’ll only ask once more. Who hired you?” Pierre’s eyes widened, realizing who was the predator in this situation and who was the prey.  _ Good. Be scared _ , Riley thought.  _ Maybe then you’ll give me better answers.  _ He didn’t need to know that she wouldn’t actually shoot him. 

“Okay, okay! Let’s not get hasty. I was hired by a man named Viktor Petrov to run this specific job. He supplied the locket and the chip.” 

She didn’t dare lower the gun. “I need more information than that. Who is he?” 

“I don’t know. He hired me to run it, and gave me ridiculously specific directions, like he didn’t trust  _ me _ \--a professional con man--to successfully run a con. Oh, and he let me keep all of the profit from the sale of the locket. That’s all I know, I  _ swear _ .” Riley was pretty sure he was telling the truth. 

“Riley,” Bozer said in her ear, “I’ve got Interpol agents closing in to pick up Pierre. Did he tell you anything useful?” 

“I’ve got a name, but it’s a common one.” She eyed Pierre. Even with a gun between his eyes, he shamelessly dragged his gaze up and down her body, taking in her fitted, navy gown and Mac’s gray suit jacket. Her stomach churned. 

Behind her, a pair of Interpol agents announced their presence. Riley breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to endure Pierre’s creepy staring anymore. 

Slapping handcuffs on the con man, one of the agents said, “We’ll take it from here.” Riley waited until Pierre was securely in the agents’ car before returning to her own. 

She prayed their only lead wasn’t a dead end. 

**********

Mac had nearly cleared the whole laundry room before finding Desi unconscious and slumped against a washing machine, wrists and ankles zip-tied together. A rag was tied over her nose and mouth.  _ Shit. Shit. Shit _ . He yanked the rag off and checked her pulse. She’d been drugged--a quick sniff confirmed his chloroform theory--but she was alive. 

He cut the zip ties before shaking her shoulder to wake her up. After a few minutes, Desi groaned and cracked her eyes open. “Hey,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve got you.” 

She mumbled something, and it took Mac a moment to realize she’d said “I know him.” 

“Know who?” 

“The man who did this.” Desi coughed. “I...we hooked up once.” Her voice was high-pitched and loopy; she was high as a kite. “Okay, maybe a lot more than once, but before you judge, you need to know that he’s really hot.” Desi tried to sound stern but failed miserably. “Viktor Petrov. He’s a mob boss who poses as an art collector.” Mac checked her for injuries while she explained. “I didn’t find out about the mob boss part until later...about five minutes before he discovered I was a spy. It was all downhill from there.”  _ No shit _ , Mac thought. “He must’ve been at the auction and recognized me.” 

“Then let’s get you out of here before he comes back,” Mac said, hauling her to her feet. 

“Goo--I think I’m going to puke.” Mac dutifully held her hair back as she hunched over and vomited on the floor. He couldn’t help but think this was his fault. If only he’d been paying attention…

Not even looking at him, Desi snapped, “Give yourself a break. This isn’t your fault.” 

“It feels like it is.” 

Desi straightened up. “I know a hundred different ways to take someone out with just my bare hands, yet I still got drugged and dumped in a hotel laundry room. It happens to the best of us. The important part is that you found me, I’m fine, and now it’s time to move on.” 

_ Move on _ . She didn’t know him at all if she thought he could just  _ move on _ . First he’d fucked up his relationship with Riley, then he fucked up keeping his partner safe, all in the span of a few minutes. He was on a high speed train of fuckery that only crashed at the end of the line. 

“Let’s go,” Desi commanded. 

They stumbled back to the suite without any trouble. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favorite chapter yet (although chapter 4 is a veryyyyyy close second). We're nearing the end, y'all. Also, I left some Easter eggs for future fics in this chapter muahahahha
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for all of your support and lovely comments. This fic wouldn't exist without you.

Mac fidgeted with the T.V. remote. Riley hadn’t returned yet. Bozer and Matty busied themselves with digging up intel on Petrov, and Desi sprawled across the couch. 

Which left Mac with nothing to do but think. 

Riley would be back any minute now, and Mac had no idea what to say to her. They needed to talk about the kiss. Dropping a “you’re my best friend and favorite coworker, but surprise, I’m in love with you” bomb on her in the middle of a mission seemed like a stupid idea, but ignoring what happened would make it even more awkward than it already was. _Fuck_. 

Mac snapped his head toward the door as the lock clicked. Riley slipped inside, opening the door just wide enough to squeeze through. Her hair was a windswept, tangled mess, but other than that, she appeared to be fine. Tension eased in his chest that Mac hadn’t realized was there before. 

She still wore his jacket. 

Riley went right to his side, although she remained a respectful distance away instead of standing shoulder-to-shoulder like usual. She looked almost...shy. Mac could see the hesitation in her eyes. He really fucked up. Now she wouldn’t even come near him. 

“Miss much?” she asked. 

“Nobody’s planning on killing us, yet.” 

“First time this week,” she retorted. Mac chuckled, earning a glare from Desi. 

Slowly, Mac closed the space between himself and Riley, so they could talk without being overheard. He gave her the opportunity to back away, but, to his surprise, she didn’t. “We need to talk,” he whispered. Riley paled. _Shit_ , that was not the reaction he wanted. Not even close. 

“Mac, I...I understand.” Her eyes said it all. She looked disappointed. Embarrassed. Hurt. _No no no no no no_. Whatever she thought she understood, it was a far cry from what he was about to say. Did she really not know how he felt? He wanted to touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and show her all the things she didn’t understand. He wanted to tell her that his heart belonged to her, and he was committed to her for the long haul, although that may not be as long as they’d like since they both had a penchant for getting shot at. And then, after all that, he wanted to back her into a wall and tell her how sexy she looked in his jacket and learn exactly how to elicit those little noises again. 

He needed to stop thinking those things about her. Riley could read him like a book. 

Yet, she’d utterly failed to see what was right in front of her face. Maybe...maybe she misunderstood _because_ he’d hid it so well. Too well, if the brokenness in her eyes was any indication. 

“Riles, no--” 

She shook her head. “Don’t _‘Riles’_ me right now.” 

“Got him,” Bozer announced, leaving Mac with his jaw hung open. His unsaid words evaporated off his tongue. 

“Viktor Petrov,” Bozer read off the screen, “thirty four year old Bulgarian mob boss and rare art connoisseur.”

Riley moved to stand behind Bozer, reading over his shoulder. Mac studied her--feet shoulder-width apart, hands behind her back. He liked to think of it as her war-room stance. The woman could save the world while standing like that. “He’s on several intelligence agencies’ watch lists,” Riley said. “Looks like he’s never been arrested, but Petrov is a power player in the Eastern European black market.” 

Raising his eyebrows, Mac slid his gaze to Desi. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em.” 

“Don’t forget, I picked you too,” she shot back. _Ouch_ . He probably deserved that. Bozer suddenly found the computer screen _extra_ fascinating. 

“In her defense,” Riley said, “he is really hot.” The two women shared a conspiratorial glance. If they ever really became friends, all hell would break loose. 

Matty broke the ensuing awkward tension. “Get this. He’s part of a collective of shady powerful individuals that uses black market items, real or fake, to keep tabs on all the major power players of the world--major corporations, terrorist cells, and--wait for it--intelligence agencies.” 

“Like the CIA,” Riley muttered. 

“Exactly. Someone in the group puts an item on the market just to see who comes running,” Matty explained. 

“So he thought he was pulling a fast one on a wealthy American, but…” Bozer trailed off. 

Mac delivered the final blow. “We were made the moment he saw Desi.” 

**********

This mission seemed to be one cursed piece of bad news after the next, Bozer thought. 

Petrov was going to out them as spies to the whole European criminal underworld, thus preventing them from ever doing field work again on the whole continent. They’d never be safe with Petrov’s bounty on their heads. 

If that wasn’t enough trouble, there was something weird going on with Mac and Riley. Post-Codex, Mac almost exclusively called her “Riles.” But, ever since their weird little whisper session, Mac abandoned the nickname. Bozer had no idea why. 

As if it were trying to spite him, the computer made an error noise. Bozer sarcastically imitated the sound. He didn’t feel any better. 

**********

Desi hated playing bait. She’d much rather be the one waiting in the shadows, swooping in just in the nick of time to save whoever got stuck as bait. But, _noooooooo_. Here she was, leaning against a wall, trying to look bored and sexy at the same time. 

It had been Bozer’s idea to have her wear the last of Riley’s dresses. This one was a skimpy, silver-sequined dress that latched onto her body like a leech. The neckline plunged below her breasts, and if it was any shorter, it’d be a shirt. It fit her well enough, except for the top. Riley’s boobs were bigger than hers, and it had taken some creative safety-pinning on Riley’s part to make the dress fit. 

To top it all off, there wasn’t a chance in hell she could hide a gun under that thing. 

“Sitting around waiting to get kidnapped, again. Best. Day. Ever.” Desi didn’t shy from making quips over comms while she waited. No one indulged her. 

Petrov’s steady, confident footsteps were her only warning before he rounded the corner. He spotted her instantly, eyes glimmering like he was starving and she was a cheeseburger on a sparkling silver platter. 

“I should’ve known better than to leave you unsupervised.” His voice was a promise of a thousand mistakes to be made. “Hello, darling. Miss me?” 

“I did until you drugged me and tied me up.” 

“I seem to recall you like being tied up.” 

She smiled but laced her words with venom. “Not that kind. Besides, I’d much rather tie _you_ up instead.” Desi practically heard the words behind his smirk. _Whatever you say, darling_. 

She fought back memories bubbling to the surface as he dragged his gaze up and down her body. “That is _quite_ the dress.” She snorted. He knew her well enough to know she would never wear a dress this ridiculous of her own free will. “I see you’ve gotten more tattoos since we last... _met_ ,” he said, innuendo dripping off the last word. His eyes traced the new designs on her arms and thighs before turning inquisitive, as if imagining what new tattoos there were in places he _couldn’t_ see. She thought about making a snarky comment but decided against it. 

Viktor finally met her eyes again, and Desi remembered what drew her to him in the first place. His striking blue eyes were nothing like Mac’s. While Mac’s were bright and curious, Viktor’s were dark, intense, and captivating. In another time and place, she could’ve lost herself counting the green flecks in them. 

“Who are you waiting for?” he asked, likely knowing the answer already. “I assume you didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.” 

“You, actually.” 

“Is that so?” He definitely knew. 

“Yes. I’m waiting for you to give me an apology.” 

He stepped closer. “The verbal kind? Or the _other_ kind?” 

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Desi asked dryly. She had no intention of ever getting in bed with him again, but _damn_ he was distracting. 

“Why? Are you seducible?” Viktor grazed his fingers up her arms, sending a shiver down her spine. He growled, “What kind of apology do you want, Desiree?” 

Desi put on a show of thinking through her options. “Both.” 

“Greedy. Your room or mine?” 

“Mine.” She had him now. Desi pushed off the wall and looped her pinky finger around his. He dutifully walked behind her, like a dog called to heel. She led him to the elevator and the trap waiting above. _Okay, Riley_ , she thought. _Your turn_. 

Desi stopped at the room next door to the suite the team was using as home base and made sure Viktor was paying close attention as she slid the room key from her bra. His eyes glazed a bit, still a sucker for little things like that. Desi opened the door and waved him through. “After you.” She gave him a wicked smile, the first genuine one of their encounter. 

Not suspecting a thing-- _What an idiot_ , Desi thought--Viktor Petrov strolled into the room and found himself face to face with a scarily cold and calculating Riley, who, as far as he knew, was American businesswoman and heiress Danika Jackson. He quickly hid his surprise beneath a mask of neutrality. Lounging in a chair, Riley looked infinitely, gloriously bored. 

“I see you’ve met my bodyguard,” Riley said cooly. 

Viktor didn’t miss a beat. “Bodyguard, you say? Seems like a boring job for someone of your--” he glanced at Desi “--background.” Desi kept her face blank. He was Riley’s problem now. 

Riley began, “Mr. Petrov, as a successful businessman, I’m sure you already know that eventually, people like us outgrow the people around us. So, we must continually surround ourselves with the very best.” Riley looked him dead in the eye, cold and unfeeling. “There’s no point in carrying dead weight to the top.” She gestured to Desi. “She is _far_ from dead weight. Besides, the private sector pays better.” Viktor didn’t notice, but Desi saw how Riley pressed her heels firmer into the floor, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. The little movement was the only sign of the Riley she knew beneath the icy exterior. 

Viktor looked a little uneasy, but he definitely wasn’t scared of the woman before him. But, by the time Riley was done with him, he would be. Riley’s eyes ignited, recognizing the challenge. 

“Now, about your little locket chip scam.” 

**********

Mac and Bozer didn’t know where this cold, calculating, and slightly insane Riley came from. They rarely got glimpses of the business side to Artemis37, but here she was, in the flesh. Mac watched the scene unfold on the computer screen, equally in awe and terrified of her. 

A woman to be feared. 

She made Matty the Hun look like a kitten. If she could see this, Matty would be proud of her. 

There was no sign of their Riley behind that cold stare. Her fingers drummed the arm of her chair. To his credit, Petrov didn’t cower. In fact, he was starting to look a little too comfortable, which was about to be a problem. 

Perhaps he needed a...demonstration. Something to make him squirm a little. 

Mac’s idea was a terrible one, and Riley would probably shoot him for it later, but it was still an idea, and Mac was pretty sure it would work. Even if he damned himself in the process. 

He just hoped she’d sincerely meant it when she said the surprise closet kiss was okay. 

“Stay here,” he said, walking to the door. 

Bozer made a face. “Okay?” Mac didn’t say anything else as the door clicked behind him. 

If Petrov was half as smart as Desi made him out to be, then he’d be monitoring footsteps in the hallway. He’d immediately know it was a set-up if Mac walked straight next door to the room Riley and Desi had Petrov cornered in. Mac forced himself to walk past the room--past Riley--to the stairwell on the opposite end of the hall, taking his time descending to three floors below. He could hear Riley’s half of the conversation over comms, but Petrov wasn’t close enough to either woman for their comms to pick up his voice. 

Mac fixated on the cold arrogance in Riley’s tone as he strode for the elevator. There wasn’t a shred of the woman he’d come to know and love in it, like she’d turned her emotions off as easily as flicking a light switch. He shivered. 

The elevator took its sweet time arriving, and in the meantime, Riley had some choice words about Pierre. The doors opened, revealing a middle-aged couple already inside. They scowled when they noticed he pressed the button for just three floors above. Mac flashed them an innocent smile. 

Mac stepped out of the elevator onto his floor, bracing himself for what he was about to do. He took heavier steps than normal, ensuring Petrov wouldn’t recognize the same pattern from before. Riley confided, once, that as a kid she would learn the pattern of people’s footsteps so she was never caught unaware. By footsteps alone, she knew who was walking down the hall--her mom, Elwood, even Jack. The variations in their gaits, she’d said, said a lot about their current state. For example, her dad’s steps normally were unhurried, but when Elwood’s walk turned heavy and prowling, it was her first warning to find somewhere to hide. And cover her ears. 

Mac’s heart snapped when Riley confessed she still did it, mostly out of habit. He swore right then and there that his kids--and hers, for that matter--would _never_ need to learn that skill, for any reason. 

Mac swiped his key card and walked right in, ignoring Desi standing by the door in her disco ball dress. Petrov stood in the middle of the room, a healthy distance away from both women, with his hands in his pockets. He had the casual posture of a man who was used to being the most powerful person in a room. The man exuded wealth, from his perfectly tailored suit to his immaculate leather shoes. 

And then Mac saw Riley. 

The video feed he’d been watching didn’t do her justice. She lounged in an antique chair like it was her throne, the hotel suite her court. Her navy blue gown pooled at her feet, and her black acrylic nails gave the illusion of claws or talons drumming the armrests, not human fingers. 

Mac dragged his gaze higher. 

Her hair tumbled down her bare shoulders, no longer wild and windswept. No, this Riley was a far cry from the woman who’d cackled while speeding down foreign streets in a stolen Lamborghini convertible. This Riley was polished, cold, and looked like she was debating skinning Petrov alive. 

Her dark eyes, usually so full of laughter and compassion, held the vast, black emptiness of the space between stars. They were black holes, consuming everything in their path. 

She was otherworldly, predatory, and very, very sexy. 

Mac started to banish the thought from his brain, but he reconsidered. He was here to play the role of scandalous boyfriend, after all. 

He let every more-than-friendly thought he’d ever had about Riley turn his expression ravenous. Musings and memories of _her_ flashed in his mind. The way her laugh warmed him from the inside out. The way she sat too close and furrowed her brow while she thoroughly beat him at any and every video game. The way her ass looked in one of the bazillion pairs of skin-tight jeans she owned. 

He didn’t care if she saw the truth in his eyes. Didn’t care if she read his feelings like a book. 

Some part of him wanted her to see the truth of it all, glimmering just underneath the fake-boyfriend façade. 

Mac wanted her to see how he never wanted to be with anyone else when shit hit the fan. How their middle-of-the-night fridge meetings were the only thing holding him together sometimes. How he was brimming with pride every time she improvised, whether in the field or at home. How one of her smiles made all coherent thoughts vanish from his head. How he’d wanted to ravish her the moment she dragged him into that damn closet. How--

Petrov cleared his throat. 

Mac blinked slowly and slid his gaze to the mob boss, feigning surprise. “Oh! I didn’t realize you had company. My apologies.” Riley’s eyes glittered like she knew just how not-sorry Mac was. 

He changed his mind. They weren’t just pools of darkness between stars. Those eyes contained the whole fucking universe. Black holes, galaxies, supernovas, and everything in between. 

He stalked toward her, trying to convey his plan with just his eyes. For a brief second, understanding flashed in her eyes before a cruel smile curled her lips--practically the first time all night they were on the same page. Mac revealed his relief for only a split second. He mouthed, _Can I kiss you?_ Riley tilted her jaw, baring her neck to him. She didn’t need to utter a single word for him to understand. _Make Petrov squirm, but don’t ruin my lipstick this time._

It killed Mac to do this to her twice, but he didn’t have a better plan. He hadn’t touched her at all since the closet, as if that would ever make up for what he did. Now here he was, silently begging her to re-enact the closet scene. He didn’t know what that made him. A douchebag, most likely. 

Playing like this was like dangling their real feelings over a blazing inferno, hoping they didn’t do any irreversible damage. At least this time, Mac had Riley’s consent. If she said no, he would’ve found some other way to get under Petrov’s skin. 

Bracing his hands on Riley’s forearms, Mac pressed featherlight kisses to her neck. His thumb brushed a thin scar he didn’t know she had. Lingering traces of her perfume filled his nose, his lungs. He trailed his lips across her skin, searching for her pulse. Upon finding it, he pressed his lips firmly against her neck, reveling in the sensation of her blood roaring beneath his mouth. 

His blood roared alongside hers. _This is just a game_ , he reminded himself. _A power play to disarm Petrov._ He nipped her skin, then soothed the small hurt with his tongue. Her breath hitched. Mac’s self-control hung by a thread. Riley was intoxicating, and getting drunk on her and losing his head would only land them in even more trouble. 

He pulled back. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to join me when you’re done here.” Mac winked. 

“If you want me against a wall, Damon, I’d much rather it be somewhere you can fuck me hard enough to make the paintings fall off.” 

Riley wore a mask of quiet, glittering amusement, but it was all Mac could do not to combust on the spot. He couldn’t believe she said that. He’d started this little game, and she always played to win, but... _shit_. 

This woman was going to bring him to his fucking knees. 

With as much bravado as he could muster, he replied, “We can do both.” Mac pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand before walking into the bathroom, closing the door, and taking the coldest shower of his life. 

**********

Petrov squirmed like a worm on a hook while he was forced to watch her and Mac’s little show. The way Mac had practically fucked her with his eyes made Riley want to squirm too. But, like, good squirming. Maybe even the kind that ended with her head thrown back and sheets clenched between her fingers. 

But, Danika Jackson didn’t squirm. _Her_ heart didn’t feel like it was about to explode. _She_ didn’t have to memorize every press of her man’s lips against her neck, because _for her_ , this moment was real and would happen again. She needed to be Danika, who was calm and cunning, not Riley, whose heart was breaking, because this was just a game, and Mac meant none of it. 

That quick kiss on her hand nearly undid her. Petrov, thankfully, had been too busy staring at the floor to catch the cracks in her façade. She focused back on Petrov, pretending her heart wasn’t pounding and her brain wasn’t short circuiting. 

Riley stared at him, putting on a show of contemplating throwing him out right then and there so she could join Mac in the shower. It wasn’t hard. She was definitely thinking about it. 

Finally, she got back to the matter at hand. “As I was saying, I don’t appreciate you kidnapping my employee or trying to pull a fast one on someone clearly smarter than you.” She paused. “Why.” It was a command, not a question. 

Petrov glanced at Desi. “What has she told you about me?” He almost sounded nervous. A bit of Riley’s terror eased, but only a bit. _You’ve got this_ , she reminded herself. 

“Everything. I know about the career that makes you happy, the career that pays the bills, and I know about your little black market spy collective, although I was surprised to learn your products aren’t as high quality as advertised.” Riley sneered. This was a gamble, she knew, showing her hand like this. She really hoped it paid off. 

Petrov snapped his head to Desi, looking vaguely horrified. “You knew about that?” Desi gave him a not-so-innocent shrug. 

Before he could say anything else, Riley continued. “Why is your collective watching me and my company, Mr. Petrov?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to another, clearly debating something in his head. “I wasn’t actually watching you at all,” he conceded. “I believe there is a mole in my operation, a spy.” 

Riley arched an eyebrow. “Interesting.” Behind him, Desi narrowed her eyes. 

“I made sure knowledge of the sale fell on select ears and waited to see which agency made an appearance. And sure enough, none other than my favorite spy shows up.” He smirked at Desi. 

“ _Ex_ -spy,” Riley corrected. “Although, I have been known to use her skills when I need information, or something done under the radar, if you catch my drift.” She knew what he was doing. Petrov made a calculated risk in revealing his potential mole problem. One slip-up on her part and he could easily connect the dots between his CIA mole and them. The best she could do now was convince him that she--and Desi--were just as shady and well-connected as him. “I assume you are responsible for the building being on lockdown?” 

“Can’t have my customers running away without paying, now can I?” She’d caught him off guard before, but he was back on his game now. Dammit. 

“Here’s the deal. You will call off your dogs and let us and everyone else leave the hotel, and in exchange I will return your locket and won’t expose you as a fraud.” He scoffed. “I am a woman of my word, Mr. Petrov.” 

“And if I don’t agree?” 

Her response was out of her mouth before Riley even knew what she was saying. “Then I will use my recording of this conversation to clone your voice and command your men to stand down myself before throwing your useless body out the window and taking bets on which direction your blood will spray when you splatter on the pavement.” Riley stared him down, swallowing her horror at her gruesome threat. She was pretty sure she was going to puke the second he was out of the room. 

“Very well,” he agreed, taken aback. Petrov cast a nervous glance in Desi’s direction. There was no pity in her smoldering eyes. None. 

Riley pulled the locket out of her bra and dangled it from her hand, waiting. Petrov took the hint and quickly made a phone call. “I have the locket. Stand down.” Satisfied, Riley handed him the locket in dismissal. 

She wasn’t going to say anything more, but the entitled way he raked his gaze up Desi’s body on his way out the door had Riley opening her mouth one more time, just to piss him off. “Good luck with your mole problem, Viktor.” 

The door shut, and seconds later a nod from Desi confirmed he’d walked down the hall and was out of earshot. 

Walking in on Mac be damned, Riley sprinted into the bathroom and hurled her guts into the toilet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a fucking rollercoaster. As Samuel L. Jackson's character in Jurassic Park says.....Hold onto your butts. 
> 
> Anyway, we are nearing the end, my dudes. There will be one more chapter after this one, and that's it. I've already started on my next fic (a sequel, I guess?)....more on that later.* As always, thank you for your unwavering support and enthusiasm for this story. Y'all are incredible. :) 
> 
> *I'll officially announce my next fic in the notes for CH 8 and on my Tumblr (@refinedbuffonery) once CH 8 gets published.

Riley was vaguely aware of Mac turning off the shower as she muted her comms and pulled her hair out of her face between waves of nausea. His soft “Holy shit” barely even registered over her own voice in her head, replaying the conversation with Petrov. 

_ Call off your dogs and let us and everyone else leave the hotel, and in exchange I will return your locket and won’t expose you as a fraud. _

Over and over and over again, her mind replayed the moment where she’d threatened to throw him out the window and watch him splatter on the ground. 

_ And if I don’t agree? _

_ Then I will use my recording of this conversation to clone your voice and command your men to stand down myself before throwing your useless body out the window and taking bets on which direction your blood will spray when you splatter on the pavement. _

Unwillingly, she pictured doing just that. While falling, Petrov flailed his arms and legs, like if he just tried hard enough, he could grab onto thin air and save himself. He landed on the concrete like a wet sock. 

The mental image made Riley puke again, bile burning her throat. 

She’d liked it. The thrill of power, the high-stakes challenge, the adrenaline rush while threatening Petrov. For ten minutes, she was the kind of woman who could stand her ground against Matty the Hun. Riley understood now why Matty fed her reputation as a cold-hearted bitch. A persona like that was brutal, but effective. Riley liked wearing that mask, and that scared the shit out of her more than anything else. 

Mac stroked her spine, murmuring “You’re safe. I’ve got you.” His touch didn’t electrify her. It didn’t send her pulse racing and make her breathing uneven. Instead, his touch was soothing, relaxing--grounding her in reality. 

When there was nothing left in her stomach, she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet. Mortification creeped over her as she realized Mac was kneeling beside her wearing a towel. Wearing  _ only  _ a towel.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. She needed to get out of there. God, she needed to get out of there  _ right fucking now _ because the worry creasing his face and his lack of clothes and the fact that she’d just threatened to murder someone in cold blood and kind of liked it was too much to handle all at once. 

Mac looked at her intently, completely not caring that he was practically naked. “What happened?” She looked away instead of answering. ”Riley?” 

Riley spied his earpiece sitting on the counter--confirmation he had no idea what she’d said to Petrov. “Mac, I...the person I was in there...she was terrifying. And the worst part was the longer I was her, the easier it was. I  _ liked  _ being her, and then it got out of control.” She met his eyes. Whatever he saw in her face hit him like a punch to the gut; he sucked in a breath and momentarily froze. His reaction vanished in a flash, but Riley didn’t miss it. God, what did he think of her right now? 

As if in answer, Mac pulled her into a hug, strong arms holding her steady. “It’s over,” he cooed. “You did what you had to do.” The second his arms wrapped around her, Riley felt all the tension begin to drain from her body, a shuddering sigh escaping her lips in relief. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Riley buried her face in his neck, arms weakly raising so she could cling to his broad, surprisingly cool shoulders. She didn’t have the energy to wonder why his skin was so cold. 

Riley focused on the feeling of his hands on her body--one squeezing her waist, the other pressed below her shoulder. It felt as though Mac was the only thing stopping the world from dropping out from under her, sending her plummeting into an abyss of things she didn’t necessarily want to confront. 

There was something extremely intimate about sitting on the bathroom floor with Mac that had nothing to do with feelings or the fact that he was essentially naked. Intimacy had nothing to do with sex, and it had everything to do with truth. Being able to tell someone her truth, show someone her most vulnerable self, and their response was  _ You’re safe. I’ve got you. _ \--  _ that  _ was intimacy. Riley didn’t hesitate to let Mac see her at her most vulnerable. And when faced with her vulnerability, Mac tucked her into his chest and reminded her she didn’t have to deal with shit alone. He wasn’t great at verbal reassurances, but Riley didn’t mind. All she needed was for him to just be there. 

_ I love you _ , she thought. Almost as if he were responding, Mac pressed a light kiss to her bare shoulder. They’d broken so many boundaries already that night she didn't think twice about it. It just felt right. 

Taking in a shaky breath, Riley let the scent of expensive soap and  _ Mac  _ fill her lungs as she fully leaned into him, trusting him to support her no matter what. 

“How did you get the scar on your right arm?” he asked after a few minutes of soothing silence. She knew what he was doing. Riley welcomed the distraction. 

“Which one?” 

“On your forearm, below your elbow. I felt it earlier.” 

She finally pulled away. “Oh, that one. I burnt myself while straightening my hair a couple weeks ago. Turns out hot tools and earthquakes are not a good combination.” Her joke fell flat, but Mac had the decency to smile anyway. 

That stupid smile. That stupid smile on his stupid handsome face with his stupid chiseled jaw and his stupid blue eyes. She looked away. 

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid. 

Mac’s hand slid down her back, a brief, light touch. It was nothing more than a simple  _ I’m here _ . Even though it was meant to be friendly and supportive, it set her every nerve on fire. Mac’s hand fell away too quickly, as if he didn’t intend to touch her at all.

She could still feel his lips from their last kiss. 

For five minutes, he was just her best friend, but now those pesky feelings were back, full force. She didn’t know enough biology to explain the pain in one’s chest when all they wanted was to be with someone. All she knew was that it hurt. A lot. Those little touches transformed from her lifeline to her destruction. 

Riley glanced back at him and found Mac studying her. There was a softness in his eyes that wasn’t normally there. Just enough to make her wonder... _ no _ . He didn’t like her like that. Didn’t  _ want  _ her like that. 

Regardless, the look reminded her that she owed him an apology. “I’m sorry I snapped earlier. You can call me ‘Riles.’” She missed the nickname. 

“Okay.” He cupped her cheek, fingertips tangling in her thick hair. She fought the urge to lean into his touch. “What do you need right now, Riles?” It was too much. The look in his eyes, the hand gently cradling her face--he did everything right, and it was all too much, and something inside her snapped. It might’ve been her heart. 

“I need you to stop looking at me like you want me, because we both know you don’t.” 

He recoiled as if she’d slapped him in the face. Clearly she’d hurt him, but she didn’t care. The stolen glances, standing too close, holding doors open for her and only her--stuff they’d done for years--all of it needed to stop. What used to be normal was now a cruel trick. The universe laughed while it played her for a fool. 

She loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone, and he only saw her as a friend, or worse, a sibling. 

Riley stood and walked to the sink to rinse her mouth out, snatching the tiny bottle of mouthwash on the counter. In the mirror, she watched Mac scramble to his feet, barely catching his towel before it slipped. 

“Riles--” 

She spat the mouthwash into the sink, the taste of bile mercifully gone. “For fuck’s sake Mac, put your pants on.” Riley threw the empty mouthwash bottle into the trash with too much force and stormed out of the bathroom. She heard the frantic rustle of fabric as Mac got dressed. He’d be out in seconds. 

She needed to commit to breaking her heart now. Stringing herself along on false hope was destroying her. Her feelings were unrequited, end of story. She was stupid to think them finding themselves alone in a hotel room would turn out the way she wanted it to. She and Mac might act like more than friends, but they were, in fact, just friends with very few boundaries. 

He practically ran out of the bathroom, footsteps muffled by the carpet. “Riley, what is going on?” Mac grabbed her wrist and spun her to face him. 

“Let go of me,” she growled. He released her wrist immediately. It was unfair, she knew, to direct all the anger she felt at herself toward him, but she did it anyway. 

“Is it because I kissed you? I know you said it was okay, but if it wasn’t I need you to  _ tell me _ , Riles.” He sounded like he was on the verge of panic. 

Maybe it was his tone, or the wild look in his eyes, but something about him in that moment pushed her over the edge, sending her plummeting past the point of no return. 

“No.” Riley couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. “It’s because I want you to do it again.” 

**********

_ I want you to do it again. _

She put it all out there, clear as day. And Mac didn’t register it until it was too late. Until she was scrambling away from him as fast as she could. 

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.  _

Every time he looked at her, Mac couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted her. Wanted to be  _ with  _ her, in every way possible. Her eyes said she was feeling it too. 

Those fucking eyes. Beautiful, but annihilating. A bridge from his soul to hers. 

_ I want you to do it again.  _ Words he never thought he’d actually hear come out of her mouth. Voice barely above a whisper, he said, “I want to do it again too.” 

Everything stopped as soon as the words left his mouth. His heart. His lungs. The thoughts ricocheting in his brain. Maybe even time itself. All awaiting Riley’s response. 

It felt like an eternity had passed before she answered. “What?” she said softly, unbelieving. 

“I want to kiss you again. And again. And a thousand times after that.” It took every ounce of his self control not to just grab her and kiss her until she forgot her own damn name, but he needed her to come to him. 

Riley inched forward. “Only a thousand?” Teasing. She was  _ teasing _ . 

“Millions. Trillions. Or, until either you’re sick of me or I die trying.” 

“I could never be sick of you.” She was close enough now that Mac could feel her breath on his lips. 

“Guess I’ll just have to die trying then.” He gripped her hands and squeezed before grazing his fingers along her arms. She gasped. Mac flashed back to earlier, at the auction, when he grazed the exposed skin in the middle of her back.  _ So that’s what it took to make her gasp like that again _ . With painstaking gentleness, he held her face with both hands. 

“Can I kiss you?” Riley nodded. A nod wasn’t confirmation enough. Not right now. He prompted, “I need you to say the word.” 

“Yes.” 

He leaned in slowly, savoring the precious, electrically-charged moment before their lips met. Her perpetually cold hands gripped his bare waist, and for a few seconds Mac forgot how to breathe. He’d loved Riley for years, but in the last few months the switch finally flipped and he was desperately, undeniably _ in love _ with her. She was his best friend, his partner in crime (sometimes literally), his confidant, his ally. She was the ground wire to his circuit. She was Hope when his was lost, Courage when he wavered. She was the person who, above all others, he could trust, and together every challenge could be overcome, every problem could be solved. 

Mac traced her lips with his thumb until he couldn’t resist any longer, tilting her chin up for the kiss. He stared at those soft, greedy lips he’d thought about far too often before moving closer brushing his nose against hers, as if drawn together by some unseen force. He’d felt that gravitational pull toward her for weeks, and now that pull solidified into an invisible string connecting them. He pulled back a fraction of an inch, just enough to meet those entrancing brown eyes of hers, and the instant he did, Mac knew he would follow her to the end of the earth. 

Slowly, he slid one hand into her hair, thick dark curls tangling between his fingers. Riley leaned into his touch, and he held her gaze and smiled, tucking a curl behind her ear. Finally, for real this time, Mac kissed her, soft and uncertain. She smiled against his mouth, and it wrecked him. Utterly, completely wrecked him. Mac’s whole body ignited. He laced his fingers deeper into her hair as she pulled his body against hers. 

Mac memorized everything about this moment: the feeling of her lips on his, the sweet smell of her perfume, the way her nails just barely dug into his back. There was no lust behind it, not like before, just affection, tenderness, and safety. 

Pure, undiluted love. 

Of course, that was the exact moment Bozer chose to check in on Riley over comms. Mac had never wanted to murder his best friend more than he did in that moment. Somehow, Riley managed to unmute her comms and explain that she was okay and just needed a minute. Mac didn’t know how she did it. Words were utterly foreign to him. 

She muted her comms again. “Now, where were we?” Her eyes glittered. 

Riley curved her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, their mouths meeting again in a searing clash of lips and tongue and teeth. It was passionate, hungry, desperate. Their bodies wound together, each with a hand in the other’s hair, deepening the kiss and pulling the other impossibly closer. Fireworks flashed on the backs of Mac’s eyelids, and lightning coursed through his veins, but at the same time, kissing Riley was relaxing and reassuring, like being wrapped up in her was the safest place in the world. 

The kiss lasted forever and ended too soon. 

Riley pulled away first. Mac gripped her waist to stop her and pull her in for another kiss but paused when he beheld the searching look in her eyes. Her eyes flitted about, and her expression was a mix of delight and confusion edged in hunger. 

For a brief second, he entertained the thought of that hungry part of her coming out to play.  _ Dude, slow down _ , the little part of his brain still capable of logic chastised. He focused, waiting for her to say the words she was trying to form. 

"We should go before Bozer starts asking too many questions," she finally said. Well that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. 

"Bozer needs to stop being such a helicopter parent." 

Riley snorted. "Then he wouldn't be Bozer, would he." Fair enough. She gave him a playful shove. "Put the rest of your clothes on so we can go." 

He wanted to talk about the kiss. He wanted to talk about what the kiss  _ meant _ , but Mac got the impression that Riley wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. 

Mac retreated into the bathroom to finish getting dressed. He glanced back at Riley, only to find her already staring. Their eyes met, and she looked away. 

Clothes back on, he crossed the suite to where Riley stood gazing out a window, having finally given up shamelessly ogling his body. Reaching for her hand, Mac followed her line of sight to the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean in the distance. “Ready?” he asked. She nodded once and smiled, letting him lead her out of the suite. 

Without letting go of her hand, Mac opened the door for Riley, and found himself face to face with two well-groomed men in nice suits, each pointing a gun at Riley’s chest. 

“Whoa there! I think you guys have the wrong room,” Mac said, squeezing himself beside Riley. One of the guns now pointed at  _ his  _ chest. 

The man on the right sneered at Riley. “Oh, I think we’ve got the right one. Isn’t that right, Danika?” He stepped closer, pressing the gun underneath her chin. “Or should I call you Riley?” 

Beside him, Riley paled.  _ Well, shit _ . 

**********

Desi was out of the room before Bozer could even blink. He scrambled after her, catching the door before it slammed behind her. 

Bozer stepped into the hallway just in time to watch Desi bash Petrov’s men’s heads together, sending them tumbling onto the floor. They never saw her coming. She stood over their unconscious bodies with a triumphant smile on her face.  _ Death incarnate dressed up like a Barbie doll _ , Bozer thought. 

Mac and Riley stood frozen for a second, mouths gaping, before Riley’s lips curled into a wicked grin and she snarked, “ _ Damn, _ I should give you a raise.” 

Wordlessly, Desi strode down the hall and pressed the elevator button. 

“Where are you going?” Bozer asked. 

Desi grabbed the closest man by his ankles and dragged him to the elevator. “Sending the dogs back to their master.” 

The elevator arrived--empty, luckily--and Desi dragged the man inside. Mac and Riley lugged the other one in behind her. Desi pressed the buttons for every floor and stepped back out, waving at the bodies as the doors slid shut. 

“So who’s going to tell Matty?” Riley asked. Unsurprisingly, no one volunteered. 

“Loser makes the call.” Bozer held out a fist. 

The problem with settling matters via “Rock Paper Scissors” was that the game had nearly the same outcome every time. As usual, Mac lost, but only because everyone else cheated. Mac always played “rock” on the first round, so the rest of the team played “paper,” and Mac was declared the supreme loser. It only got messy when someone played “scissors” just to fuck shit up. That someone was usually Desi. 

In their hotel suite, Mac looked like he wanted to die on the spot while Matty chewed him out for using Riley’s real name while they were undercover. He’d confessed that after the meeting with Petrov, he and Riley had a not-quiet argument that Petrov or his men must’ve overheard somehow. 

Mac and Riley didn’t seem to be upset with each other now, so Bozer wondered what they fought about. Riley even gave Mac a quick shoulder squeeze and a grim, knowing look that set off warning bells in Bozer’s brain that something changed between them. 

After further deliberation, Bozer realized that he’d never known his friends to raise their voices at each other and fight. He’d witnessed many full-blown screaming matches between Mac and Desi, but never with Riley. 

Bozer didn’t know what to make of that. 

Desi and Riley changed into pajamas (bless fake-vacation ops) while Mac was on the phone and decided to check the other room for bugs, in case Petrov somehow managed to plant one while he was in there. Now alone with Mac, Bozer decided to do a little investigating of his own. 

He didn’t waste any time beating around the bush. “So, what’s going on with you and Riley?” Bozer knew Riley had feelings, and he was pretty sure Mac did too, although he didn’t have explicit confirmation. 

“What do you mean?” 

Bozer decided to play dumb. “You two have been acting weird ever since we got here, and now you got into a fight that led to your covers being blown? Something’s up.” 

Mac shot him an exasperated look. “Dude, I know you know more than you’re letting on. Out with it.” 

“My information is not mine to tell.” He paused. “What happened in the other room, Mac?” 

“I kissed her,” Mac confessed with a sigh. 

“And?” 

“And she kissed me back.” 

Bozer was excited for them--he really was--but he was also worried. Mac still hadn’t fully dealt with everything that transpired in the last year, and Bozer worried he’d keep using a relationship to hide from it. And if he did that, then Mac may very well do to Riley what he did to Desi. 

And if Mac and Riley ever ended things badly...Bozer would have a front row seat watching two high-speed trains derailing, and there would be little he could do about the near catastrophic destruction. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Bozer asked gently. 

Mac looked taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I be? She’s everything I want.” 

“Mac, I just think you should take a little more time for yourself before diving into another relationship.” 

Frowning, he argued, “Why? If you think part of me is still hung-up on Desi, you are clearly mistaken.” Well, fuck. This was going to suck. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Mac narrowed his eyes, waiting. “Can you honestly tell me that you’ve fully dealt with everything that happened with Codex and your dad?” 

Mac opened his mouth to defend himself, but nothing came out. 

“What I’m saying is that I think you need to take more time to get your shit together before going all in with Riley. Otherwise, you’re risking letting that kind of stuff get in between you.”  _ And drive you apart, like it did with you and Desi _ , Bozer refrained from adding. “You need to deal with it, but you don’t have to do it alone. You have me, and you have Riley. And I know there are some things that I will never understand, like stuff with your dad, but she does.” He took a deep breath. “Let someone in, Mac. Let  _ her  _ in. The allure of banging her brains out is strong, I know, but you’ve got to build that solid foundation first.” Bozer grinned.” And make it out of real, reinforced concrete, not the ruined, crumbly stuff we made as a prank in eighth grade.” 

Mac chuckled. “Thank you. I appreciate your concern, Boze, but I’m fine, really.” Bozer didn’t believe him for a second. “Besides, I can’t do that to Riley. I can’t turn around and rip it away from her like that.” No, that conversation would not be pretty. 

“At the end of the day, it’s your choice. I just don’t want you to have any regrets.” 

Mac pulled him in for a hug. “I know,” he said. Quieter, he added, “Believe me, I know.” 

**********

It was a little after two am, and all Riley wanted to do was sleep. The auction felt so long ago, yet it had only been seven eventful hours ago. 

She let Desi explain that they’d found a bug in the other room, on the underside of the door handle. Petrov must’ve placed it when he let himself out. Riley cursed herself for being too caught up in Mac to consider a small detail like that. 

“Well, we’ll deal with it in the morning,” Mac said, looking just as guilty as she felt. “We all need sleep.” Riley nodded in agreement. She glanced at Mac, then Bozer, then Desi, then back to Mac again, knowing the others were doing the same. It was the first step in their “who’s sleeping where” routine. 

Riley didn’t have enough energy to battle for a good spot to sleep, so she pulled rank instead. “My op, my bed,” she announced. Without waiting for a response, she unceremoniously plopped on top of the fluffy duvet and closed her eyes. 

After a few minutes of squabbling that Riley didn’t bother paying attention to, someone slid into bed beside her. She cracked her eyes open just enough to see Desi rearranging the pillows. 

One of the boys turned the lights off, forcing Riley to finally crawl under the covers. She curled up on her side with her back to Desi. 

Sleep beckoned, but her brain was still buzzing too loudly to slip into blissful unconsciousness. Riley tried to turn it off, focusing on her breathing instead. With each exhale, she felt herself sink into the mattress, one body part at a time--first her feet, then calves, thighs, hips, torso, arms, shoulders, neck, head. She took one last deep breath and felt her whole body relax, becoming one with the bed. Her brain quieted at last. 

Across the bed, Desi whispered, “Are you okay?” 

Truthfully, Riley had no idea. She’d had such a rollercoaster of a night that she barely knew which way was up anymore. On the bright side, things seemed to be working out with Mac. But, at the same time, the consequences of being with Mac--Desi getting kidnapped, Mac accidentally blowing her cover--nagged at her. 

“I will be.” A true but vague answer. 

“For what it’s worth,” Desi said, “I saw you under the mask. Kind, brave, wickedly smart you. I know you scared the shit out of yourself, just as much as you scared Petrov, but you didn’t scare me. You were more in control than you think. And besides, I wouldn’t have let you cross a line you couldn’t uncross.” 

Riley didn’t have words to respond, so she just reached across the mattress and found Desi’s outstretched hand. The woman slept like a starfish, taking up way more than her half of the bed. Riley squeezed her hand, and after a second, Desi squeezed back. 

Her last thought before drifting off was that maybe she and Desi could be friends after all. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for coming on this adventure with me! This chapter was an absolute bitch to write....the characters took over control and I'm just along for the ride at this point.

Riley slept horribly, courtesy of Desi kicking her once every few hours. How Mac tolerated sharing a bed with that woman for so long was beyond her. 

Awake for the fourth time that night, Riley was too exhausted to fight off the intrusive thoughts lurking in the peripheral of her consciousness. The things she’d said to Petrov….Riley could learn to live with it. She didn’t have a choice not to. Mac’s reassurances helped, but more than anything else, Desi’s words stuck with her. 

_ I saw you under the mask.  _

_ You didn’t scare me.  _

_ You were more in control than you think.  _

Mac would always tell her things would be okay. But Desi….Desi wouldn’t. Desi was honest to a fault. Somehow that made Riley feel better. 

She glanced at the woman slowly taking over the entire bed. Riley hoped Desi would forgive her for kissing Mac. It wasn’t like Mac left Desi for her, but she didn’t want Desi to think there was some ulterior motive on Mac’s part. There wasn’t...was there? 

God, this thing with Mac had barely started, and it was already so messy. It didn’t sit right with her. 

Wanting nothing more than for this mission to be over so she could go home and think, Riley rolled onto her side, lying back to back with Desi, and waited for sleep to claim her once more. 

**********

“Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?” Mac asked, wide awake despite only getting four hours of sleep. 

“This is going to get us killed, isn’t it.” Desi’s response wasn’t a question. 

He feigned offence. “I can restrain myself.” 

Bozer frowned. “You  _ absolutely  _ cannot.” 

“Mac can’t what?” Riley asked, stumbling into the main room still half asleep. Her feet shuffled across the floor, like picking them up and taking a real step was too much effort. They’d let her sleep in, since Petrov didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon, although looking at her, Mac wasn’t sure how much sleep she’d actually gotten. Even less than him, probably. 

Desi answered Riley’s question, leveling Mac with a pointed look. “Can’t restrain himself from doing something stupid.” 

Riley managed a dry, “Is this supposed to be news?” She looked horrible--that soul-crushing type of horrible that seemed to always descend after someone’s world blew up in their face. She held Mac’s gaze, but there was no trace of the light that should’ve filled her eyes after a heated confession like theirs. 

Dread filled Mac’s stomach. What if she changed her mind? 

Riley plopped herself in a chair and opened her laptop. “So what stupid thing does Mac want to do? Spiderman his way into Petrov’s room with some TV cables and toilet plunger?” 

Mac smirked. It wasn’t a bad idea. If he used the cables to make a ladder…

Bozer cut off his train of thought. “Oh no! I see where you’re going with that, and the answer is  _ hell no _ .” 

Mac continued working out how to pull off Riley’s joke plan while his friends jabbered. “How about I just do my thing and we go from there,” Riley finally said, yawning. No one was dumb enough to object to that. 

While they waited for Riley to do...whatever she was doing, Mac came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. She flinched. 

_ Oh _ . 

“Sorry,” she rushed to apologize. “You surprised me.” Mac frowned at her blatant fib. She’d never flinched from his touch before. Not even once. Tensed, maybe, but never outright  _ flinched _ . Fuck. He removed his hands. 

“So what’s your great and grand plan?” he asked, forcing himself to move past the awkwardness. 

“Hack into the hotel’s system to see his check-out day--it’s today, by the way--and let Interpol know they should come pick him up.” 

That...that was a lot easier than any of the things he had been thinking. 

“When--” he started. 

“Agents will be here in twenty to pick him up.” Indifferent and professional. Like he was some random agent assigned to the mission. Not her partner of five years. Not her friend. 

Not her...person she confessed feelings for less than twelve hours ago. What the hell happened? 

He wasn’t ready for the answer to that question. 

Ignoring the churning in his stomach, Mac asked, “What about the rest of Petrov’s collective?” 

“Hopefully Interpol can use Petrov and his bodyguards for information to take them out. From what I’ve read about him, his relationships with business partners are questionable at best.” Riley craned her neck to look at him, her sleep-lined face soft and wary. “Either way, it’s out of our hands now.” 

Mac wasn’t sure if it was the dark circles under her eyes or the way her voice softened at the end of her sentence that made him throw caution to the wind. He changed his mind. He needed to know what changed her mind about him. About  _ them _ . 

“Riles,” he murmured. 

Quietly, she said, “I’m not ready to talk about it.” 

Mac wanted to scream. They had everything they wanted right in front of them, and Riley was chickening out and refusing to explain why. “You have to give me  _ something _ .” She didn’t. She most definitely didn’t. He wasn’t entitled to shit. 

Riley twisted in her chair to face him head-on. “Are you sure we aren’t making a massive mistake?” 

She might as well have slammed him face-first into a slab of concrete. He didn’t know how to respond to that. 

_ Of course _ they weren’t making a mistake. She was it for him...wasn’t she? 

Bozer’s warning echoed in his head. _You need to take more time to get your shit together before going all in with Rile_ y. Did she think the same way? 

She started rambling. “This is already just so messy. You and Desi just broke up, and we were so distracted she got  _ kidnapped  _ last night, and I don’t want to wake up two months from now and realize I was just a rebound and none of this was real.” Mac wanted to stop her, reassure her of his feelings, but that nagging little voice stopped him. 

_ Do you want her because you love her, or because you're afraid of being alone? _

He knew as long as Riley was alive, he’d never be alone in the world. A sickening thought bubbled up like bile. Was he just taking advantage of her? 

He wasn’t. He didn’t think he was. Not intentionally. He couldn’t do that to her….right?

Lost in his head, her words were so unexpected they barely registered at first. 

“We can’t do this,” Riley said softly. She solely focused on his eyes, reading the hurt and confusion in them. She knew, exactly, the effect her words had on him. Mac knew they had the same effect on her. 

Mac’s heart shattered into a million pieces, and in that moment he knew without a trace of doubt. He loved her. He was  _ in  _ love with her. 

But did he need to let her go? 

**********

A message popped up on Riley’s computer from her Interpol contact.  _ He’s not here _ . 

Riley let out a string of foul language that made even Desi’s eyebrows skyrocket. Petrov wasn’t there. He probably left hours ago, if the team's recent string of bad luck was any indicator. He could be anywhere by now. Scrambling to task a Phoenix satellite to track the mob boss down, Riley cursed herself for not checking to see if he’d already left. 

She was smarter than that. 

This whole op was a mess. In every way possible. 

Matty would skin her alive when they got back to L.A. Whatever faith Matty had in her ability to spearhead an op just went up in smoke, if it hadn’t already. Fuck. 

Riley babbled an excuse about getting dressed and made a beeline for the bathroom. She felt herself spiraling, but she didn’t care. 

In her peripheral vision, Mac and Bozer shared a concerned look, no doubt silently debating who would follow her. She wished they wouldn’t be so obvious about it. She wished she couldn’t read them so well. 

From the safety of the bathroom, Riley heard a door slam. Steady footsteps approached. Mac. Those were Mac’s footsteps. God,  _ why  _ did it have to be Mac? 

Riley didn’t miss his hesitation before knocking. 

Everything was so fucked up. 

His voice was soft, like he was talking to a child or a frightened animal. “Hey, it’s not your fault,” Mac reassured through the gap. She hadn’t closed the door all the way, she realized. 

Some sick part of her wanted to laugh at how wrong he was. “Of course it’s my fault, Mac. It’s my op!” She yanked her jeans up. “This whole thing is a fucking mess.” 

This op was a mess. Their relationship was a mess. Hell,  _ she  _ was a mess. 

Dressed--in normal clothes, mercifully--Riley flung the door open with a frustrated sigh and found herself face to face with Mac, who looked like he just got punched in the gut. 

Icy blue eyes heavy with sadness, he spoke impossibly softly. “Is that what you think this is? A mess?” 

The implications of his question utterly wrecked her. She replied, equally softly, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” 

No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. Her feelings had only spilled because they were  _ fighting _ \--for once in their lives--bubbling up like a pot of rice boiling over. At least she didn’t admit she was in love with him. She still had that, tucked away for when the right moment arose. 

_ If  _ it arose. 

She regretted ever wishing this op would end with her and Mac alone in a hotel room. 

Riley didn’t know how long they were silent before she continued. “I know improvising is what we do, but I don’t want to improvise with you.” 

“Riles,” he choked back a sob. “I can’t lose you too.” 

_ Fuck _ . That wasn’t what she meant. She scrambled to explain. “You’re not losing me.  _ Never _ .” A small glimmer of hope lit his eyes. “I don’t want to improvise because I want to build something permanent.”  _ With you _ , she didn’t need to add. 

There was a “but” coming, and the look on his face told her he knew it. “But,” she grimaced, “I don’t think either of us are ready for that yet.” 

Her cheeks were wet. She didn’t know when she started crying. She couldn’t stop. 

Fighting back tears of his own, Mac asked, “What do we do now?” 

Riley extended her hand. Mac glanced between her hand and eyes, hesitating. It felt like an eternity passed before he carefully laced their fingers. 

“We get our shit together,  _ together _ .” Her heart threatened to shatter into a billion tiny fragments, held together only by hope that someday, they’d both have the happiness they deserved. That this thing between them, it would wait for them like a sunflower facing east, waiting for the sun to rise. 

Searching her face, Mac tugged her closer, closing the gap between them until there was barely enough room left to breathe. She knew what he was asking. Riley tilted her chin up, and it was all the confirmation he needed. His nose brushed hers, causing her breath to hitch. Mac’s eyes burned as he lowered his lips to hers, so hesitant and light Riley almost didn’t feel it at first. He kissed her so heartbreakingly gently, their free hands slowly twining together. 

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, but  _ God  _ it felt like one. Honest feelings with bad timing could go fuck themselves. 

A quiet  _ ding  _ from Riley’s laptop finally forced them apart. For a moment, they stood utterly still, foreheads touching, just breathing each other’s air. As soon as they separated, they’d go back to being just friends.  _ For now _ , she reminded herself. However long that was. 

Finally, Riley managed a halfhearted smile. “Come on, we’ve got a mob boss to catch.” 

**********

The elevator smoothly stopped on the ground floor, and Riley continued ignoring the concerned looks Desi gave her. She’d fixed her makeup, but no amount of concealer could hide the puffy, red-rimmed “I just finished crying” look in her eyes. 

“Riley--” her friend started. 

“I’m fine.”  _ Lie _ . She wasn’t fine. Not even close. But she would be, eventually. 

Reaching into her bag, Riley pulled out the massive, rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses she’d worn when she first arrived. Some cynical part of herself laughed at how naïve she’d been, thinking this op would just be about looking sexy and stealing some new, fancy tech. 

As if they were a piece of armor, Riley slid the sunglasses on moments before the elevator door opened, putting up the Danika Jackson façade beneath them. 

_ You’ve got this _ , she reassured herself. 

Beside her, Desi replaced her concern for the stony glare of a well-paid bodyguard, and together, they sauntered across the lobby and out into the street beyond. 

After all, they had a mob boss to catch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry. 
> 
> That being said, chapter 1 of my next fic (aka the sequel) posts Sunday 10/11! I PROMISE I will fix this mess by the end of it.


End file.
